


theodelia arranged marriage au

by TheFictitiousScribbler



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Testing - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:28:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 40,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26251174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFictitiousScribbler/pseuds/TheFictitiousScribbler
Summary: ref
Relationships: Test Card Girl/Other(s)
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

Delia brushes off her pencil skirt in a huff as she storms down the manor hallway to her grandmother's study. There’s no conceivable reason why her grandmother would propel her into an unwanted marriage. Money was never an issue before—no—she wasn’t going to waste time with that thought. She might not know a lot about business, but, that doesn’t matter right now. She’s going to get answers. Just because her twin brother Delius and Thea were no longer engaged didn’t give them the right to put Delia in his stead.

Her white stained knuckles pound against the door. She’s never been this rude to her elders but her future is at stake, and, she deserved to know why. Her throat closes up as she hears her grandmother's approval, sudden nerves paralyzing her step as she opens the door.

Cordelia raises her gaze from her desk to her granddaughter. She gestures her hand to the cream coloured chair in front of her, tucking a loose faded blonde hair behind her ear. Delia doesn’t have to explain what’s on her mind. Her grandmother’s sympathetic gaze is an indicator of that.

“Grandmother, I…I need to talk to you about what you told me today.”

“Naturally, but I have to say I’m confused. You wished to get married and start a family since you were very young. You’ve had no luck with anyone you’ve dated, and with Delius’s fractured engagement with Ilythea, I felt that this was a fantastic arrangement. If Theodore Avangard is truly incorrigible, then we’ll look at other options—although I don’t place my hopes in Thorne. He’s a lovely boy, but you know how cruel the outside world can be.”

“I didn’t come here to talk about Thorne.” Delia crosses her arms. “I’m not marrying this… _Theodore_ …or whatever you called him—and I can't even believe you’d pawn me off just because Delius didn’t want to marry! What kind of double standard is that?!”

“It’s as I’ve said before. Time By Firthe's fallen on hard times and we need the bailout—the Avangards want in on our shares, but, with our recent fraudulent scandal, they want assurance that we won't go astray. After sensitive company information was leaked last year, our security’s been considered weak by the shareholder’s board. I can’t let economic failure be the reason for our family’s downfall. The Avangards are the only ones who believe that we Firthes aren't at fault." A pocket watch retailer that's lasted centuries was bound to come crashing down at some point. With the arrival of smartphones, pocket watches would become a relic of the past. It was time to modernize the business and keep up with the times. But her grandmother wouldn't listen to Delia. She wasn't her precious grandson. 

“Yet they intend to marry into a family that is untrustworthy…because?”

“It’s not like that. Milo was good to your grandfather. He trusted that man with not only his friendship but his life. The problem stems from the fact that they are new money. They are staking a lot by replacing the shareholders we have, and, would feel a lot more secure having ties to the family. I thought Delius would have explained this to you?”

“Funny how we haven’t heard of the Avangards until Thea’s arrival, considering how close the head of the Avangard Family was with Grandfather. And they're aatrading company no less. But no, Delius hadn’t explained anything to me. He was too busy brooding over his predicament. I thought he was being overdramatic but now I understand why. This is a horrible thing you've sprung onto us.” She brushes a honey blond curl from her face as if it would add to her protest. 

Cordelia's steel-blue eyes darken as frowns. “It wasn’t my intent to force any of my grandchildren into marriages that would make them miserable. If Theodore is a horrible man, then say the word and I’ll call off the engagement officially.” Her eyes dart back to the paper on her desk as a stray greying blonde hair falls against her cheek. She pretends to study it thoroughly but it's clear she's upset.

“You made Delius CEO—it’s supposed to be his job to bail us out. It was his responsibility to marry Thea.”

“It was an oversight of mine—if I had known he fancied men—”

“Great—so my preferences net me this position. Glad to know I’m the one who’s singlehandedly assuring the survival of our company—and not your chosen CEO…That man he's with, Oli, was tasked to kidnap him because his employers wanted to destroy us by exploiting our secrets. We still don’t know if they'll come back for Delius, or if we can even trust Oli! Just because he’s an Avangard by blood doesn’t mean he will be loyal to them—they outright disowned him, and we still have no idea why!”

“No need to dramatize this, Delia. Everything's been handled. Anyways, as I said, if Theodore is horrible, then you don’t have to marry him. It’s that simple.”

But she can tell by her grandmother’s stiff posture that she wants this to go off without a hitch.

Delia’s lip curls in disgust. “If I were to agree to this engagement, how soon would the wedding take place?” 

Cordelia folds her hands together. “Two weeks from now—what was initially scheduled to be Delius and Ilythea's wedding date.”

Delia knew the venue—a private beachfront area that was impossible to book—so it made perfect sense to repurpose the date. Not that she agreed with it. 

“I have two weeks to decide if I want this man to be my husband?”

Cordelia nods, but slower. “I…implore you to meet with him at least. Please...you're my last hope, Delia.”

There it is...the thread that would weave its way into Delia’s heart. To hear her grandmother say those words is worrisome. She was not the type of woman to beg, or even plead. This was serious. God…why did _she_ have to be the one to fix their family’s financial affairs?

“Fine. I’ll meet him. When can you book the arrangement?”

I’ve already booked a private meeting with Theodore for tomorrow evening. I would have cancelled if you said no, however, I’m relieved I didn’t have to. The two of you will be spending time together in one of the finest executive suites downtown. Refreshments will be provided of course to loosen your tongue. I know how shy you can be.”

“You booked a suite—like in a hotel?!” Delia’s heart jumps to her throat. What kind of first meeting place was _that?_ A coffee shop would have done her just fine!

“I did this your assurance, dear. You don’t want to marry someone who can’t satisfy you.” There’s a glint in her eye as she speaks. “It’s what young people do nowadays, isn't it?”

“I-I’m not…you can’t expect me to—this isn’t proper!”

Cordelia clears her throat. “Delius and Ilythea had no problem with this when I arranged a similar meeting for them. From what I heard, they managed to have a lovely conversation about the trash animals outside—apparently, she’s got quite the love for them—” Cordelia pauses, noticing Delia’s tense frame. “If you go through with this, I’ll increase your shares—although it won’t mean much if you don’t marry. With the money flowing in after your wedding, you can fund Egg-cellent Eats. If Theodore is the man that I believe him to be, he won’t have any problem with this—he seems like a level headed man.”

Delia huffs—she was wondering when her grandmother would dangle that in front of her.

“Fine, whatever. I'll meet him. But that's it—I make no promises!”

“You would do well to check his socials. Theodore's got some flattering photos on that...erm…uh…”

“Instagram?”

Cordelia claps her hands together. “Yes! I searched his name and all sorts of pictures appeared.” She smiles, appearing proud that she had used the platform. “You'll like him—he reminds me so much of your grandfather back in the day…”

Delia groans inwardly.

_What the hell did she sign up for?_

Delia tenses in unison with the digital number’s increase. She swears the elevator’s rising faster than she’s ever felt one before. Her palms become sweaty as she grabs the ends of her dress. How did she even agree to this—yes, he was easy on the eyes but he looked so hard-faced in his Instagram pictures? Her grandmother called him Theodore, but it made sense that he went by a nickname, as she could only find a Theo_Avangard online, with over fifty thousand followers. He was a rugged yet well-dressed man with dark well-kept hair. Muscular too. She should have expected as much from one in his position. He didn’t seem to be one for smiling which was unusual for an influencer, except in one photo where he was petting a golden Persian cat—which gave her the thought that Deel would be a much better match for this man than she would. Who was to say that this Theo was even straight? 

The elevator dings—large arched doors stand firm at the end of a long hallway. There are no other exits on this floor. If the Firthes were so short of money, they shouldn’t have expensed this. Delia gulps as she leaves the safety of the elevator, a wave of uncertainty fills her as she hears the elevator close behind her. She grips the handle of her luggage bag, taking a deep, yet shaky breath. She’s thankful she wore flats—heels would not have been suitable given her wobbly her ankles feel. 

Delia reaches into her purse, pulling out an ornate golden key. It’s exuberant, but she supposes that’s the point. She sticks the key into the matching ornate lock, her hand sticking to the handle as she opens it.

The first thing Delia sees is a pair of men’s dress shoes tucked in the corner, ignoring the luxurious entryway entirely.

_Large man’s shoes._

God, he was going to make a mess of her, wasn’t he?!

Delia grips the handle of her rolling luggage bag as she forces her feet to move. She forgets to slip off her shoes.

“H-Hello?” Delia calls. Her attempts to sound reassured have vanished. High rise windowpanes show off the night’s cityscape—twinkling lights surrounded them. This would have been the ideal spot for a romantic night. But, like everything else in their family, this was business.

Business she has to resolve.

Delia sits on the leather couch—it’s comfy, but her back’s too stiff to appreciate it. A door hinge squeaks as it opens, Delia makes the same noise—was it him?!

_Ohgodohgodohgod!_

He emerges from the hallway, slicked dark hair put in place, his sideburns and stubble are well-trimmed. She’s relieved the ceiling is high, his hulking frame didn’t give her any confidence. His maroon coloured turtleneck clings to his toned arms—just like in his pictures—but his dark denim jeans show he prefers casual dress. His amber eyes narrow as he notices her presence, glossing her over before he adjusts his dark-rimmed glasses.

“You’re Delia?”

“Yes, I am. And I take it that you’re Theodore?”

“Call me Theo.” He sits in the chair adjacent to her. “Unless you’d prefer that I call you _Cordelia_?”

“Delia’s fine, thanks.” Yeah, she gets his point. “It’s just that my grandmother addressed you as Theodore and I didn’t want to be rude.”

Theo nods, disinterested in her reasoning. “Have you eaten?”

“No.” Delia’s stomach churns at the mention of food. She was too nervous to eat, minus a few boiled eggs she scarfed down before arriving.

“Shall we dine before discussing our predicament?” His frown deepens.

 _Predicament?_ Yeah, that’s what she’d call it. “Sounds good.” Hopefully, she could work up the nerve to converse with him in a populated atmosphere. Being alone with this man intimidates her—she had the feeling his type didn’t smile often. She watches him put on his shoes, realizing at that moment that she didn’t take hers off. He stands up, raising a brow at her presentation. 

“Ready?”

“Yes.” She stands up straight, taking a quick deep breath. If she’s this stiff, how is she supposed to survive tonight?

Or dinner?

“I was slated to marry first since I’m the eldest—but I wasn’t interested in the position. Thea offered to take my place, which I was initially relieved by. But as time went on, I realized that it wasn’t fair on her—selfishness booted one family member our of our ranks—I wasn’t going to be the second. It wasn’t fair to ask Thea to marry a man she wasn’t interested in. As the eldest and heir, it’s my responsibility to take the brunt of the burden. You are the eldest of your siblings too, are you not?”

“I am.” Delia nods sharply. She didn’t expect that he’d talk this much—or—at all. The wine sitting next to them really loosened his lips. Delia on the other hand was too nervous to drink. She had ordered an egg platter, but it sat in front of her, untouched. He on the other hand had steak—covered with _pepper._

How could her grandmother set her up with a _pepper lover?_

_Disgusting._

“Then we must shoulder the responsibility so our younger siblings won’t have to.” Theo’s blunt words hit. “Admittedly it doesn’t hurt that you’re pretty, but I promise that I won’t slip into your affairs if you don’t bother with mine.”

Was that a compliment? Delia can’t tell, the tone of his voice doesn’t change. 

“Does this seem okay with you?” Theo combs his hair with his fingers. “Because since the drink is taking effect, I got to say that I’ve no interest in a wife. I’m only doing this because I saw the error of my ways. I am nothing else but a gentleman however—so you may have the bed. I have no intention of touching you.” He takes a sip.

His suggestions were amicable, but why did she feel insulted? A loveless marriage isn’t what she signed up for, but if she can secure this arrangement—her dream could be achieved. In that respect, this arrangement was perfect—but could she really feel fulfilled in this kind of relationship—if this was even considered one?

“That’s fine with me.” Delia’s stomach settles a bit—just in time for a whiff of the delicious platter before her. She feels Theo’s hot stare on her as she pierces an egg with her fork.

“You’re going to eat it like _that?”_ It’s the first time she's heard any kind of emotion from this man.

She raises a brow. “Yes.” Would he prefer that she uses her fingers to eat the bloody egg?

“It’s…so _plain._ Here, have some of this.” He picks up the pepper shaker and hands it to Delia—she’s surprised that there’s any left inside.

“I don’t want it, thanks.”

“Why not? A meal isn’t complete without some pepper.”

“You mean void the taste altogether. Pepper assaults your tongue into tasting nothing else, ruining the flavour of your dish.”

Theo tilts his head as he crosses his arms. “You’re not serious…”

“I am very serious. Pepper is vile—although I was trying to hold my tongue when I saw how you dumped the shaker onto your plate. It would have been easier if you opened the lid instead of trying to shake it out.”

“You have no taste.” Theo’s quip makes Delia question him. He sounds grievously offended. Over pepper of all things…

“Eggs are perfect as-is—no reason to ruin perfection.” Delia narrows her eyes at him as she takes a bite. Her appetite returns at full force as she begins to devour her plate—noticing her betrothed’s shoulders stiffening with every bite.

“I think I’ve seen enough,” Theo says with repugnance. “Have the waiter forward the check to me.”

Delia had to laugh. Did eggs really churn this man’s stomach or…whatever, it didn’t matter. What made her the most amused is that he took his steak with him. Clearly, he didn’t have the manners of a high-societal figure, but that suited her fine. She couldn’t handle watching him eat that Satan sprinkled steak anyways.

It didn’t take long for Delia to flag down the waiter for the bill—she debated if she wanted to go back upstairs, or, just duck out undetected. But, with a couple of drinks in her, she knows that it wouldn’t be smart to traverse into the unknown. She reluctantly sighs, making the decision to head back. Theo said she had rights to the bedroom. A suite that nice ought to have comfortable lodgings. She hops into the elevator, her focus on the ornate mirror behind her. Recognizing that her floaty head is tied to the glasses of wine she's had, she laughs to herself. If the worst thing about this man is his pepper fetish, she could swallow this arrangement.

At least she'd have her dream career realized.

The elevator dings, pulling Delia from her thoughts—the door opens leaving her to exit her bubble. Delia complies, taking quick steps out of the elevator and down the hall. Ahead, the suite door has been left open. Did Theo do that on purpose? Did he think that she would lose the key? Her cheeks puff in annoyance—how rude! She stomps in the direction of the suite, slamming the door behind her.

“Hey, I’m not some kind of moron you know, _Theodore!”_ She bellows, hoping the name will irk him. “I know to bring my keys with me when I go out—” Delia should have known something was wrong when she saw the pepper filled steak slumped against the wall—the plate cracked in two around it.

“You cudda said she was downstairs, would'v saved us the trouble.”

Delia can’t believe her eyes. Her blood runs cold when she sees three men dressed in black state at her. Theo is on the ground, his neck pressed up against the sole of the taller man's shoe. He looks just as large—if not larger than Theo. The other two move forward as the man presumably in charge says,

_“Gag her—NOW!”_


	2. Chapter 2

“Throw them in!” are the last words Delia hears before she’s thrown onto the floor. The door slams shut. With her wrists now free, she yanks the cloth bag from her head. Gagging her was quite troublesome for the criminals as she kept snapping her teeth at their fingers. So, they threw a bag over her head—god—she had never felt fear like that in her entire life. They put their rough hands on her arms and dragged her out of the suite. She screamed for her life, but no help came. They even made lewd comments regarding her weighty chest. They didn’t try to cop a feel, which she was thankful for—if she could even afford to be grateful in this plight.

Delia blinks, wiping the water from her eyes. They were jailed in this _hotel_ room? …If she could even call it that. No desk or chair to be seen—just a small, naked mattress and a jacuzzi tub in this windowless room. She knew it wouldn’t have been wise to keep any sheets in the room if this was to act as a prison cell—they could be used as weapons in a variety of ways, and, with a large man such as Theo, could be used effectively. She could assume that the bathroom would be the same. These criminals have ties with the hotel—the furniture left in the room matched the style of the décor in the suite made it obvious. 

She turns to Theo, observing as he scans the dimly lit room. His face is anxious and tense. Delia didn’t know Theo for very long, but it seems unnatural for him to bear this dark of an expression.

“Fucking assholes didn’t even let me finish my steak,” Theo grumbles beneath his breath.

“That’s your biggest concern?! And not the fact that we were both thrown into this hovel.”

“I get pissed when I’m hungry.”

“You could have eaten the steak in the restaurant instead of packaging it up to go.”

Theo crosses his arms. “And watch you eat?”

Delia scoffs, “I’ll beg your pardon—eggs are food from the divine thank you very much! And like you’re one to talk, Satan Sprinkles.”

Theo raises a finger to comment but puts his hand down realizing this wasn’t a discussion worth having. “Now isn’t the time to discuss your grotesque fancies. There are other things worth focusing on.” He heads to the door, rattling the lock with an iron grip. He grunts, upset that he can’t budge the handle. “Bastards have us locked pretty tight.”

“I can see that.” Delia sighs, she didn’t expect him to break the handle in two with his bare hands. Panic fills Delia’s frame as the disparity of her predicament catches up with her. Whatever brief reprieve this was, she wanted it back.

Theo’s frown deepens before he takes a look around the room. “These guys could be pissed about Oli’s change of heart—using both you and I as collateral for his betrayal.”

“Oli’s with these guys?!” She couldn’t believe what was happening, this is exactly what she warned her grandmother about! She knew that Oli's trifles hadn’t been fixed, despite her grandmother's claims that there were. Her soft-spot for her moody and dramatic grandson had left her blind to the most obvious plot this was. Theo had to be right—what other reason would they kidnap her?

“Oli _was_ with them, yes. They are called the _Odious Oranges_ , if I remember correctly. He broke it off with them when he settled with Delius.”

“Odious oranges? Really?" Her brow crinkles. "And he didn’t think that would make these guys angry that he just broke it off with them to date their target?!”

A brief smile flashes across his face, “You assume Oli _thinks?_ That’s a good one.”

“Everybody has thoughts.”

“Not Oli. He wouldn’t give two shits if the world collapsed around him.”

“Then how do you know he isn’t trying to finish the job? It’d be strange if Oli wasn’t pissed about being disinherited—he’d need to swap Deel with another Firthe to keep the peace… _and that Firthe is…me.”_

“Oli’s not smart enough to think ahead. Besides, he’s oblivious, not malicious.” Theo pauses, staring at Delia. “You might be right about the hostage thing though. Since the gang couldn’t get Delius, they thought you’d be a fair trade.”

“Why would you say that?!” Delia growls. “I’m trying to stay calm and you’re not helping!”

“You _literally_ said the same thing seconds ago!” Theo massages his fingers against his forehead. “What makes no sense is why I’m wrapped up in all of this.”

“They didn’t tell you anything?”

“They…managed to immobilize my movement with some kind of drug.” Theo rubs his neck—did they inject him with something? But he seems fine now? “All I remember is that they planned to kill me at first, but then they thought of something much more suiting for me—so they kept me alive. I’m guessing that drug was how they planned to get away with the murder.”

Delia’s stomach drops as she clasps her mouth. She…she can’t believe this.

_This had to be some kind of fucked up dream._

Theo turns his gaze to Delia. “I wasn’t trying to make you feel worse, but it’d be indecent to lie about our situation. Just know that I won’t let them separate us. I don’t trust they’d be cordial with a lady of your physique.”

“God, just shut up!” Delia’s cheeks flush. “Nothing out of your mouth has been remotely helpful!”

Theo lifts his hands up in frustration. “Are you deaf—I said I wouldn’t let them lay harm to you!”

“But here I am, kidnapped and soon to be enslaved.” Delia huffs as she flops on top of the queen-sized mattress. 

Theo lets out a heavy sigh, “And ungrateful too.”

She doesn’t retort. There was no point in reasoning with him.

Wish a hard fist to the wall, Theo cusses under his breath.

“Fucking Oli...he said he handled everything.”

There wasn’t any use rehashing that conversation. Delia sits on the mattress, staring at her knees as she lowers her head.

Both turn their attention to the screech of a metal latch opening—a tray with plastic plates appear. Theo storms up to the door in a fury, snatching the tray from the opening. She would have joined him, but her reaction time was feeble. Delia gawks when he sits down on the bed and shovels what looks to be sirloin chunks mixed with mashed potato into his mouth.

“Seeing you eat like that is nauseating.”

“Do you see any utensils?” Theo talks with his mouth full as he rolls his eyes. “Eat your meal before I do.” 

“I’m not hungry.”

“Suit yourself,” Theo says as he dumps her food onto his. Delia shudders when he pulls out a mini pepper packet from his pocket, sprinkling it onto the slop he’s created.

Delia lets out a disgruntled moan as she rakes her fingers through her hair. How the hell is she going to survive captivity in here? With _HIM?_ At least the bed was big enough for them both. She's not a monster, she’d let him at least share the bed with her. She had no worries being around the man, he clearly made it obvious he wasn’t attracted to her. It makes her more furious that she’s irritated by that thought. No, that's a good thing—she doesn’t have to worry about any unwanted and _uninterrupted_ advances. _Guh!_ They've only been in captivity for what felt like over an hour and she’s already growing stir-crazy! God knows it could be going on midnight by now…there was no way of telling!

Delia heads to the bathroom—she can’t stand Theo's lip-smacking any longer. She closes the door while staring at herself in the mirror. Her eyeliner created dark circles under her damp tear-filled eyes. She’s glad that she didn’t try to doll herself up for the date _._ She turns on the tap, letting the water run for a handful of minutes before splashing water into her face. She needed to do _something_ to calm herself down. With a swift motion, Delia drenches her face with warm water, patting her cheeks dry with the edge of her lilac-coloured dress—as there aren’t any towels in this room. She only notices the toilet paper sitting on the floor when she already marked her dress with smudges of eyeliner.

She turns off the taps, only to hear another one running. That didn’t make any sense—unless—Theo was filling the jacuzzi tub? Good god, was Theo going to _bathe_ right now? She was in the bathroom for a while but it didn’t give him the excuse to just take a bath without her consent. She wasn’t ready to see him naked! 

“Hey!” Delia shouts through the wall.

He doesn’t respond. She’ll just have to shield her eyes, she’ll get claustrophobic if she stays in this tiny bathroom much longer. 

She opens the door, peering outside to see if it was safe to leave. She jumps when she sees Theo’s frame blocking the view.

“Can you move? I really need to pee.”

Delia exits the bathroom, allowing Theo to move past her. But if he wasn’t in the bath—then what did she hear?

“My hands were sticky and I had to wash them—since there’s no soap I had to keep the faucet running until my hands were spotless. I can’t use my sweater as a napkin. I’m shocked to see you used your dress as a washcloth.” Theo points to the mascara stains on her dress. “Next time don’t take forever, it’s not just you who’s stuck here.”

“I wanted to wash my face, what’s so wrong with that? Besides, don’t you have to _pee_?”

“I do, but you were just staring at the tub. I thought I’d tell you what I was using it for.” Theo closes the door, leaving Delia to leer at it. With him gone, the room seems emptier…scarier even.

The scariest part is, without his presence, she has time to think…

“Bed’s yours, as we agreed upon before this mess.” Theo leaves the bathroom, gesturing to the mattress she’s sitting on. 

“It’s fine if you keep to your side. It’s big enough for both of us.”

Theo’s expression relaxes in relief. “If you’re sure. I wasn’t looking forward to sleeping on the carpet.”

Delia grunts, feeling irritated that she’d have to sleep fully dressed. There weren’t any blankets or pillows either. She’d just have to make do with making her arms her new pillow. God knows it’s past midnight already—she better close her eyes.

Delia jumps when she hears the sound of a belt unfasten, followed by an unzipping noise. Her throat parches—he _couldn’t—_ be undressing behind her…could he? She looks, his bare sculpted back presenting itself for all to see, his black boxer briefs sculpting his rear magnificently.

“Why are you undressing?!” Delia stammers.

“I can’t sleep with jeans on. Also, my turtleneck is warm, I’ll sweat to death if I keep it on all night.”

“B-but you're only wearing your…b-boxers—”

“Don’t tell me you've never seen a man like this.” Delia can feel both Theo’s disapproval and annoyance through his words.

“I have…but this is…this is different! There are no blankets to cover us!” She knew he was toned, but holy hell, he's hot. “It’s fine, just stay like that. I’ll just keep my eyes over here.”

“Are you done being weird? I’d like to sleep now.” The shrug of his tone is obvious. The weight of the mattress shift as he lies down, also favouring his side. Good, that way Theo couldn’t see Delia's crimson-stained cheeks. She would have to find some way to sleep. Or, pick anxiety…but there is a comfort in knowing that Theo was right beside her. She believed his words when he said he would protect her. It brings her enough comfort that she is able to close her eyes for a minute.

And…she's awake again.

The boning of her dress digs into her waist, and the thick material makes it hard to lie down in—not to mention how her tights were pinching her sides. But she didn’t have the confidence Theo did—there’s no way she could strip down to her bra and panties so easily. Not without a blanket to cover her.

“Not so easy, is it?” Theo says with amusement. _He’s still awake?!_ “You want my sweater? It’ll be better than that outfit you are wearing.”

“I’m good.” She says, but the call to sleep was strong. She yearned to get comfortable.

“Suit yourself.” She feels the weight of the mattress shift again.

Delia tries to fall asleep once more. She guesses that an hour goes by before her body screams at her to sleep.

It fails.

God damn it…

Theo couldn’t still be awake…could he? Maybe she should sneak over and grab his sweater, but she has to be quiet or she’ll wake him. She tiptoes to his side of the bed, grabbing it before she scurries to the bathroom. With great relief she throws off her dress, the red markings show their wear by the indents they made on her skin. She would leave her undergarments on. Delia picks up Theo’s sweater off of the countertop as she stares at it. It'd fit her but…did she really want to wear it? Delia sighs as she resigns, pulling the sweater over her head. To her surprise, the neck was rather loose, despite making her already curly hair filled with a static charge. Her hair had no hope in a place like this. She stares in the mirror, the sweater's length reaching to her mid-thigh area. It looked like an oversized dress, even hiding her boobs quite nicely.

That's a relief.

She exits the bathroom, feeling less stressed now that she was in comfortable clothing. She lies down on her side of the bed, closing her eyes to sleep.

“Wake up.” Delia’s shaken by a shirtless Theo. She jumps up, startled by his presence before her memories come rushing back to her. Right. She was a prisoner in some hotel for as long as her kidnappers felt like it.

“Sorry, I decided to take your sweater after all.” The soft warm cotton fabric lured her to sleep, and apparently, knocked her out cold. This turtleneck had to be enchanted…

“It’s fine,” Theo says, his cheeks are redder than she remembers. “I-uh-will be needing it back. I’m cold and…yeah.”

“I get it.” His blush is contagious. Was he one of those guys who liked it when girls wore his clothes or something? How many other women wore this very sweater? Suddenly the appeal of the garment has worn off. “I’ll get dressed and you can have this back—"

Theo grabs her wrist before she stands—the door sounds like it’s being kicked by the heel of someone’s boot. Delia didn’t understand the need for that—don’t their captors have a key?

“Stay behind me,” Theo says with urgency. Delia does as she’s told, doing her best to stay calm. Her stomach churns as the door open, three men enter the room. Their black cladded outfits give her the clue that these are the same men from last night.

“What the hell do you want?” Theo says heatedly.

“It seems the two of you got well acquainted in the night hours—which will make this easier. Don’t fear, I’ve only intruded just to talk—and talk only.” The man takes off his hood. Delia did not expect to see a round face attached to his large frame. He waves his companions away. “It’s two against one if you decide to attack—should put both you and the lady at ease, eh?”

“Delia stays with me.”

“I never said she had to go. In fact, I need the two of you together to pull off this heist—”

“—What do you want with us?!” Delia shouts.

“If you’d let me explain.” His calm voice irks her. “I need the two of you to get married _ahead_ of schedule—you know,” He stares at Delia, “To siphon the funds coming your way, because, what good is a hostage if her family’s got no money? But the Avangards have plenty of gold to spare—right Theodore?”

“Don’t mock me.”

“I promise that this isn’t mockery. You and the miss here are going to elope, and then you’ll ask your feeble old grandpa to buy you a private island. You know, to spend the rest of your days in a honeymoon paradise—or however you want to phrase it, You don’t have to use my words, just make them your own, yeah?”

“I’m to run Grandfather’s empire when he passes—I can’t ask him to buy an island in the middle of nowhere. He’d say no.”

The man’s tone deepens as it becomes less coy, his deep green eyes lock on Delia. “It doesn’t matter right now; you have plenty of time to come up with a believable story. He pulls a shiny revolver from his sleeve. Delia’s nauseous. She’s never seen someone hold a gun in person before.

“Put that away.” Theo roars. Before he has a chance to move, the man moves behind Theo, yanking Delia from his grasp, withdrawing the gun to her temple. _This can’t be real. This has to be a dream!_ Delia lets out a scream, but it only seems to make him pleased. 

“Don’t try anything or I’ll blow her brains out.” The man warns as he digs the metal tip into her skull. A sharp pain ricochets through Delia's head, causing her to whimper.

“Cordelia…I have an important talk to ask of you. I want you to call your grandmother to send a week's worth of clothes to this hotel. Tell her you’ve fallen madly in love with Theodore and wish to speed up the nuptial date, so the two of you decided that you’ll elope—give it your own convincing flare.”

“Ok, I’ll call her! Please!” Delia shakes as he lightens the pressure of the gun against her temple. “J-just put the gun down.”

“If I do that, I’ll be making myself vulnerable.” Delia glances at Theo, his gold eyes reveal his regretful state. The man's right—as long as he was armed, there wasn’t anything Theo could do to save her.

“…Fine. Give me my phone.” She needs to be brave—or else she's fucked. The man gestures to the door, one of his associates gives Delia her purse. She's not stupid enough to jam her nail clippers into her attacker's hand—she would get shot in seconds. She reaches into her egg-shaped purse and pulls out her phone.

Delia takes short breaths, attempting to calm herself. _It’s okay. It’s alright. If she makes the phone call, she’ll live. Everything will be fine if she makes the call._

She dials her grandmother’s number. It rings three times before she picks up.

“Hey, Dee—I was real confused for a minute because grandmother has your contact picture as a hen, but then I read the name and saw it was you! _Sooo—how did your hotel date go?”_

It’s Thorne. _Fuck!_

“Thorne? Why do you have Grandmother’s cell?”

“She wants me to watch it because she’s in a meeting with Deel and she’s shorthanded today.” That didn’t sound right, but Delia doesn’t have the luxury to discover why. “I can give her a message for ya.”

Actually, this might win in her favour. Thorne would believe anything Delia would tell him. She wouldn’t have to deal with a laundry list of questions either. “Listen carefully, tell the staff to send a week’s worth of clothes to the hotel I’m staying at—they’ll know which one I mean—I need more clothes because I want to elope with T-Theo.” Her voice wobbles as she tries to feign happiness.

“Elope?! NICE! Can I go?”

“No—we want it to be a time where we can get to know each other better. But I promise I’ll tell you about it when I get home.”

“Aww, that sounds so nice, Dee! I'm glad that you won’t be so miserable and lonely anymore. Now you have someone who can taste test your sandwiches, although I hope that you will still ask me to on occasion. But that doesn’t matter now. I'm glad I don’t have to beat Theo up.”

“You what?”

Yeah, I was gonna give him a black eye if he was mean or sour to you—even if he’s Thea’s brother. And don’t tell Deel I told you this, but he was worried about you too. Speaking of, did Theo mention where Thea went? She hasn’t been returning my calls—”

“We haven’t had the time to discuss Thea…” A hot stream of tears glides down her cheeks as she feels the dwindling impatience of her captor. “Just know I love you, Grandmother, and…Deel…very much, okay? N-no matter what happens.”

“Not enough to invite us to your eloping but whatever I guess…yeah, I love you too Dee. Send pictures or I’ll tell Deel and Grandmother that you want to be disinherited.”

“I will.” She lets out a choked _bye_ before Thorne hangs up.

The man’s companion snatches Delia’s phone from her hand. “We’ll see if that’s enough to convince them. We might need a pic of the two of you to post on your Instagram to make it real convincing though—we’ll escort you two somewhere nicer and get you cleaned up first. Hopefully, the teary end didn’t give your condition away.” He sounds annoyed. “The two of you brought enough clothes for a couple of days at least?”

“Yes,” Delia replies meekly, barely able to contain her sob. The man lets her go; Delia runs towards Theo in a panic. He ushers her behind him, his golden eyes darkening as he focuses on the man with a gun.

“This has gone on long enough,” Theo says briskly, but the man’s gun is now pointed at him. “Whatever Oli’s done, I’ll make up for. There’s no need to involve Delia in this.”

Delia's heart pounds violently against her chest. Seeing the nose of the revolver sends her into a panic; she wraps her arms around Theo's waist for protection. 

There's a glint in the man's green eyes, “Oli is as good as a dead man, for no one betrays me and gets away with it.” Theo's frame tenses as he whispers for Delia to let him go. She blindly obeys, watching as Theo lunges towards the man with a gun. A gunshot cripples her hearing momentarily; a screech escapes her lips. Theo knocks the man onto his back. The impact forces the gun to ricochet across the floor. The other man runs to pull Theo off of his comrade, pulling a conveniently sized needle from his shoulder bag. Delia screeches at Theo to watch out, but her scratchy voice reaches him too late—he lets out a grunt as the drug is inserted into his arm, falling limp within seconds.

Both men face Delia. “This one’s been compliant. We don’t need to induce her.” He nods his companion off. “Don’t look so distraught, the paralyzing serum will wear off soon enough. Theodore is too valuable to kill.”

“Then why were you going to kill him?!” Delia says—she clasps her mouth immediately. She doesn’t want to test this man’s temper.

“I didn’t realize that you Firthes were paychecks away from bankruptcy. Good thing I got word before I did the deed, or I’d have murdered myself out of a job.” Amusement fills his laughter. “No harm will come to either of you, as long as you both remain compliant. We’ll call for you when your things arrive—then the real fun can begin.” It doesn’t surprise Delia that this man would possess a maniacal grin; nevertheless, it sends shivers down her spine. It didn’t take much imagination to figure out what this man considers _fun._

He leaves Delia alone with a comatose Theo—his expression matching that of someone in a pained sleep. She has to snap him out of it! Delia readies her palm, grimacing at the thought of smacking this man. A loud slap echoes through the room, but nothing. She slaps him again, his left cheek redder than they were when he gazed at her this morning.

_Please, Theo, wake up! Don’t leave me here alone…_


	3. Chapter 3

Damn it all.

Theo Avangard hadn’t expected this rude interruption.

Surely his followers would notice his absence. For the brief validation they offered him, he assumed they would miss his presence. Being the heir had its perks for his brand, but public trading wasn’t his forte. Avangard Tradings Inc. would be the end of him, for it got him stuck in a hotel cellar, risking his life for a woman he hardly knows.

He should have been blessed for the favour he had done for his family. Yes, Delia Firthe was pretty in that apron of hers, as her photos on Insta had shown him, but he had a feeling there would be an underlying catch. Was her egg fetish the reason she had stayed single? With a face and body like hers, that would have had to be the only reason. Unless she was secretly a nag.

God, he hadn't chained himself to a nag, had he? And now he's stuck in some hotel room with an alleged nag.

A hot alleged nag.

Fucking hell.

Well, the nag was asleep, and she seemed innocent enough in his sweater. The bruising where she had smacked him is still there, but that was to be expected. The drug they pumped him with hit hard, it almost made him feel a bit drunk, making Delia appear in multiple places before he came to. She had fallen asleep while wearing it, burying herself in the sleeves for comfort. It made his chest tighten to see her so comfortable in his garment.

Why did his feelings have to be so over the place? Why did it please him to see her so comfortable? This wasn’t the time to dote over such a stupid urge.

He could figure out the enigma that was Delia Firthe later. He needs to escape this awful room before he loses his mind. He glances around the room, but as him and Delia had surmised, there was nothing to find. All sharp edges had been softened and all loose items had been secured.

His skin chills at the suddenness of the draft—the air exchanger must have turned on. His slim lips form into a frown as he puts his hand on his chest. Goosebumps form instantly. It would be another night that he'd have to sleep in this breezy room.

Theo lowers his head on his arm as he curls his legs closer to retain some heat. He shouldn't have offered his sweater to Delia. But no, it’s the polite thing to do—damn his grandfather and how he was raised! If he was more of an ass, he'd have the warmth he desired.

Heat rises to his face when he observes the gentle curve of Delia's hip, his sweater barely covering her rear. Damn the distance he put between them—he said he wouldn’t touch her. He turns around, opting to stare at the wall instead. There was no place for pleasureful urges here. He had to stifle all he had right away.

Theo wakes up to a soft hand on his chest, her full lips parted as she exhales softly. A mop of miraculously untangled honey blonde curls cover her shoulders, distracting Theo from his current predicament. He carefully takes her dainty hand off of him, placing it by her side. It's only now that he realizes the end of his sweater sits above her belly button. She’s a bit pouchy, but it was expected. A twinge in his abdomen reminds him that this woman has a full figure. Nevermind the _Oranges,_ it was Delia that was going to be the end of him. He hops out of bed, uncaring if he wakes her. He needs to shower and get his mind off of his betrothed.

Theo takes a quick rinse, the water washing the salt off of his exhausted frame. Had it been so long that being locked in the same room as this woman would drive him crazy. The answer is yes. Theo punches the wall tile with frustration. He’d never let his urges take over, but he needed to stay distant. This wasn't the time to act like a repressed _nice guy._ He grabs the tiny soap, scrubbing every inch of his body as if he was filthy. A mixture of frustration and yearning courses through him. The next time he sees one of those _Orange_ dudes, he's going to punch them black and blue. That helpless feeling where his limbs stopped working…it terrifies him. He refuses to be drugged again.

Theo pauses when he parts the shower curtain, seeing the reflection of the naked towel rack. _There aren’t any fucking towels!_

He needs his sweater—now.

As Theo leaves the bathroom, he notices Delia moving around on the mattress. She peeks up, blinking at the dripping mess that Theo was. Her violet eyes glimmer briefly before she blinks; just what the hell was she staring at? 

“Kindly hand me my sweater,” Theo says with an outstretched hand.

“But you just ran the shower! How am I supposed to get changed when you made the whole bathroom muggy?”

“I’m dripping wet. Give me my sweater before I rip it off of you.” His temper takes over his manners.

“There's no need to be rude! Turn around and don’t peek.”

“I have no desire to.” That's the biggest lie he's told today.

“Good.” Theo hears the ruffle of clothes shifting, soon feeling the warmth of the garment on his shoulder. It smells slightly of vanilla. His briefs tighten slightly. _Hell no._ Without muttering thanks, Theo storms into the bathroom to dry off. He would opt to go shirtless for the rest of the day. He refuses to let Delia Firthe become a distraction.

Theo dries off using the turtleneck. He doesn't know how he's going to survive imprisonment with Delia Firthe. 

***

Delia fluffs her honey-blonde curls as she admires her burgundy low-rise dress. The waist is pinched with sparkling silver sequins, the skirt fans out to her knees. It’s a bit fancier than she would prefer for an engagement photo, but it’s convincing if nothing else. Everyone knew this was her favourite dress. It’s the one time she doesn’t care if her cleavage shows. Gotta flaunt what your momma gave you, as her mother had said in the past. Even if the flaunting was for a trio of criminals, as her _betrothed_ didn’t seem to give two flying fucks about her appearance—unless she was wearing his clothing.

She flushes at the example of that memory but quickly shoves it aside. They were held hostage in that dingy old room for three whole days. Delia was relieved when the kidnappers ushered them back to the suite this morning, even if it was by force. They didn’t want to arouse suspicion since Delia’s grandmother had shown interest in visiting her. They also wanted that newly engaged photo on Instagram. If she has to be imprisoned, this was more ideal than the blanket less arrangement downstairs. She rushed for her pile of things and hopped into the shower immediately—throwing that lilac dress into the bin. She never wanted to see that article of clothing again.

And, she could wear her nightclothes again—no more wearing burgundy oversized turtlenecks! Not to mention that she could use her favourite sugary vanilla shampoo—and the ability to use a towel—god—she could melt reminiscing about her newfound privileges.

Delia dips into her makeup bag, pulling out some mascara. She applies it generously, giving her violet eyes something to work with. It should be okay—but if this was going to come off as a lover’s engagement pic, she needed to look the part. She slips on a pair of cream coloured tights. There—her outfit is complete.

Once she's done with this arrangement, she can take a nap—finally having the bed all to HERSELF! She squees internally as she imagines herself kicking her legs back and for the on the plush mattress. Theo said he’d take the couch and she’ll follow that creed. He can’t take those words back now!

She exits the room, feeling ready to strike a pose. Instead almost hitting a familiar wall that didn’t even blink an eye at her dolled-up appearance.

“Stop hogging the bathroom every time I have to pee.”

“I-I didn’t! God, you’re rude!” She narrows her eyes at him as he walks past her. Delia’s expression has a dual meaning—one, admitting his bodily functions to her over and over and two, for not noticing her appearance. Maybe Theo preferred men? No, he did have a reaction when she wore his clothes before, but maybe that was pure coincidence.

Just her luck to be engaged to a gay man.

Theo leaves the bathroom wearing black ironed dress pants and a matching burgundy shirt. She didn’t realize he walked in with a change of clothes. Her eyes widen at his parted collar—he looks _dashing._

His golden eyes narrow on her as his brow arches. “Is there something on my face?”

“No—you look good, is all.”

“Thanks.” It’s the most flavourless thank you that she’s ever heard. He walks by her, rolling up his sleeves. “When are we starting this picture show?”

“They said they’d give us some time to gussy up.” Theo didn’t notice the effort she put into her gussying up— _gah_ —that makes her mad! She should have said there was some _pepper_ between his teeth or something—to get back at him for his lack of care or attention!

Delia hears the suite door open, a well-dressed man enters the room. A lithe man standing an inch over six feet, he brushes off his black dress jacket. His auburn hair is thick with curls—his face long but youthful. Just how old were their kidnappers?!

“Ah, the two of you look picturesque!” He clasps his hands together. He must be new—that exuberant tone wasn’t one she’s heard before. She glances at Theo’s muted expression—whether it was shock at his flamboyant way of speaking or neutral to all that was happening, she wouldn’t know. "You can call me Two of the Odious Oranges, my stage name of course. Can’t give out my true identity, as it's not policy.” Did he just wink?! He forms a picture frame with his fingers, stepping back as he says, “Imagine this; you married on the night of the summer solstice. It’s a small but elegant gathering of you, the groom and a few witnesses to see the union. And if everything goes well, you could welcome your first child, a boy—maybe two—so the Avangard line would be secure. Then Grandpa Milo can pass on happily, knowing his dynasty is protected—and he'll gladly give you that island you've requested!”

This man was an utter lunatic, is the look on Theo's face. “It’s always that damn island with you lot.”

“A-Avangard? Excuse me, but if I'm to birth any child, it'll be a Firthe!”

“That's your biggest concern?! I don’t want no damn kids!” Delia's taken aback by his claim.

“Ah, yes, Cordelia looks like she would make a fine mother, raising sons and daughters in a most elegant and loving manner. A few honeymoon babies should get you that island for the clan—”

“You’re out of your mind if you think…never mind. My grandfather isn’t going to buy me any damn island so figure out another way of getting it.” Theo growls as he stomps off.

Well, when _Two_ phrases it like that…she just wants to bury her head in the sand. 

“Calm him down and take the picture. Boss said you don’t need the encouragement—please don’t make me enforce it.”

Delia narrows her eyes. “You're the one who wound him up with all that nonsense.” Which, she wished he didn’t. Now it was her responsibility to oil this fucked up machine. 

Theo didn’t go far—then again, this place wasn’t that spacious. She finds him in the master bedroom—well—the only bedroom in the suite. His back is facing her as he stares out the window.

“Hey, you are making this very difficult!” She says firmly, her hands resting on her hips. “Let’s just put on the act and get on with it…”

Nothing.

“I know _Two_ is beyond quirky, he's acting like a theatre student dropout but honestly I prefer strange phrasing over someone pointing a gun pointed to my skull!”

Theo turns around, You were no help when you played along with his antics.”

“What, you mean back there?! It's true, I’m not just going to be some broodmare for your Avangard spawnlings—our children _will_ be Firthes.”

“I don’t want kids.”

“Well, I do! It doesn’t matter if it's with you or not, but I will be a mother by someone's hand.”

Theo irks, his expression contorts with disapproval. “What? No, what if the papers found out about it? I can’t be dragging my family’s name in the mud because of a philandering wife.” He frowns deeply.

“That is your problem, not mine. My family's name is already besmirched.”

“I’m waiting for that picture!” Both can hear the cheery disposition of Two from the living room.

“Can we talk about this later—I don’t want to get killed.”

He glowers at her. “You’re not sleeping around.” Honestly, she didn’t think he'd care.

“Just come on and play nice for this stupid picture okay?” Delia grabs Theo by the sleeve of his shirt as she drags him from the bedroom to the living room and then to the large balcony outside. Two follows them, handing Theo his phone with the camera app pre-opened. “Take a selfie—don’t bother with the other camera app. It’s shit.”

Theo blinks at his phone and rolls his eyes. “It’s gonna be shit anyway.”

“Just put your hand around my waist and smile,” Delia says, edging Theo towards her. She stands as tall as his shoulder—this wasn’t going to be an easy scene to capture. Feeling the heat through his strong frame does feel nice though…

Theo feigns a half-grin, leaving Delia slightly muddled. It’s fake, but for a second, she thought it could be real. This man looks dashing with only a small grin. At least she didn’t have to prod him to smile. He plays with the angle of the camera couple of times before he snaps a photo. Two out of the three pictures have Delia’s nose scrunched up like she’s going to sneeze, but he looked perfect.

_That’s not fair!_

“Take another.”

Theo sighs, but amusement fills his tone when he says, “You’re not photogenic, are you?”

“Shut up.” She growls at him.

He laughs to himself as he adjusts the camera once more, Delia managing to smile convincingly. She can tell it’s a sad smile, but Theo didn't notice. He wanted to be done with the ordeal.

Two waves his fingers in Theo’s direction, wanting his phone. He stares at it in splendour. Theo lets go of Delia, the warmth she felt went with him.

“Look at you two! The picture of magnificence.” He makes a chef’s kiss gesture before he adds, “Now for the icing on the cake—the blurb. We gotta get those viewers hungry for a real live romance.” That was impossible, given their current situation. Romance can never blossom from this amount of pressure? Anyone who knew Delia wouldn’t buy this picture’s legitimacy.

Well, maybe Thorne would.

“This seems like a lot of work for an island you’re not gonna get,” Theo mutters, his words filled with irritation as his gaze lingers on the cars below. “I told you that my grandfather’s not going to be interested in me leaving to live on some obscure enclave.”

Two pauses, scratching his chin. “We’re still talking about the island, right?”

“You got your picture—that’s all I’m giving you.” He quips.

“Cordelia, please craft the blurb that will make everyone believe you two are lovers for the ages.”

Was this guy off his rocker? Delia sighs, taking Theo’s phone and staring at the text box above. The line blinking in and out of existence daunts her. Was she ready for this kind of proclamation? Delia only posted her egg sandwich pics on Instagram—and she didn’t even get that many followers. Theo’s follower count reached over 50K—that’s a whole lotta eyeballs seeing this fake publication.

 _Love at first sight! Kisses and hugs to all of you—_ no…that’s cheesy.

It needs to be better.

 _Can’t believe we’re getting married—feels like we’re known each other forever!—_ ugh, that sounds even worse!

_Ready for the adventure of a lifetime! #engaged #summertime #soinlove._

It had to work—she wasn’t lying about the adventure part…except, maybe about being ready for it. A hostage isn’t an adventure she would wish upon anyone.

Delia hands Theo's phone back to Two. “Is this fine?”

“It’s weird to have an engagement picture without showing off a ring…but it’ll have to do.” He takes Theo’s phone and places it back into his bag. “Hopefully there will be some congratulatory calls coming your way.” He slips the phone in his pocket. “You two have free reign of the place—but don’t think about sneaking away. I really don’t want my boss to hurt you two.” Was that sympathy she heard in his voice? He waves, leaving Theo and Delia on the balcony alone.

“We’re too high up to call for help, and I doubt anyone would pay attention to us as is—are you afraid of heights?” Theo asks.

“If you think I’m going to climb over the balcony—you’re sadly mistaken. Looking over the edge makes me woozy enough as is.”

“Just checking.” He shrugs. “Seeing the sight of that man makes me wanna jump.”

Delia can relate. Her imagination couldn’t make up a man who acted so whimsical.

Delia side-eyes him with a grin. “It’s not too late to end our torment.” 

Theo scoffs but in amusement. “That’s dark.”

“Who knows how long they’re going to have a hold on us? Is it really impossible for you to convince your grandfather to buy them that stupid island they’re so horny for?”

“Interesting phrasing, but yes, he already has one runaway for a grandson, he doesn’t need another.”

“We need to find a way to tell him the reason why you’re asking. There has to be a way.”

“If I do that, Oli’s finished. Grandfather knows about the crowd he’s running with, and if they find out it’s the same gang who kidnapped us…” It doesn’t take much imagination to discover what Theo meant by that sentence.

“But Oli isn’t involved!”

“But he’ll think he was—for revenge.”

“Why? You said yourself that you don’t think Oli’s that smart.”

“He was caught—no—it’s more accurate to say that his bank account was recorded dipping into our grandfather’s funds.” He pauses, checking to see if he has Delia’s attention, “I say it was a group of hackers using my dumbass brother’s account—they probably scammed him on the street without him even realizing.”

“Is that why was he disinherited? Surely he tried to make a case for himself?”

“No—I mentioned before he wouldn’t give two shits if the world collapsed around him. He didn’t care to clear his name and my grandfather is kind, but he’s dim. He took it to heart that Oli would do such a thing and he basically told him to never show his face again.”

Delia pulls a face, “Doesn’t sound like such a nice guy to me—to disinherit a grandson based on an allegation.”

“Don’t think too much about it—I don’t. They’re both idiots as far as I’m concerned.”

“But that hardly makes any sense—neither of them tried to talk about it?”

“Again, you give my family too much credit—Thea and I are the only bloody sane ones in this family.” He shakes his head, taking off his glasses. “I do hope you have some sense in that brain of yours.”

“Of course, I do!”

“You have an unhealthy obsession with eggs.” Theo cocks a brow.

“How dare you—eggs are the foundation for a balanced breakfast!”

“I never said that they weren’t. But you do know it’s not good for your cholesterol to eat so much. Bad for your heart.” He points to her chest.

“Watch where you point that finger of yours!” She smacks his hand away.

He shrugs.

“Besides, I know a guy who needs to watch how much _pepper_ he puts on his plate!”

Theo sighs, pinching his brows. “Now you’ve made me hungry.”

Delia raises a finger, but she hears her own stomach growl in unison with his words. Dammit, how she craved to eat good food. The eggs were fantastic but…she could do with some variety in her diet.

And _not_ because Theo said so.

“I don’t think they’re going to let us go downstairs. We might be subjugated to more sirloin.” Her voice quivers at the very thought.

“It was better than the pile of hard-boiled eggs you requested. I can’t believe that’s all you ate for the three days we were in that room.” He shakes his head as leaves her on the balcony. 

“A party?!” Delia hears the squeak in Theo’s voice. “A party—where Delia and I have to leave the hotel—yeah, can I call you back?” He hangs up. “My grandfather wants me to come home for a party to celebrate my engagement—tomorrow,” Theo says, staring at Two. “You gonna let us leave?”

“I don’t see why that’ll be a problem. We can work our group into the crowd while you work your magic on the feeble old man.”

Theo turns to Delia, exhaustion laces his expression. “He’s excited to meet the girl that captured my heart, despite knowing very well who you are since it was our grandparents that arranged this.” He gives Delia a deadpan stare. “Pretend that you love me, okay?”

He didn’t have to sound so sick about it. “I can, despite you giving me no incentive to.”

Two chimes in, “Sounds like a plan. Call your grandfather back and tell him it's on—and rest up, because the grand stage will be yours in the morrow.”

It's only been half a day but Delia’s gotten used to Two's strange antics. She would prefer this treatment over his boss's any day.

Delia and Theo part ways for the night, her hand still on the crook of the door. Finally, she can lull herself to sleep in the bed before her. The wide sprawling king-sized frame was a magnificent sight to behold. Easily big enough for the two of them, but the couch is also comfy. No need to feel his weight shift around so much in his sleep if she didn’t have to. Delia changes into a chemise, the fabric flows down to her feet, barely covering her toes. Its thin material doesn’t hide much, but it’s light enough to sleep in without getting too hot. Delia lifts the luxurious satin cover and tucks herself into bed. She sinks into the plush goodness of the mattress, letting out a relaxed sigh. She didn’t realize how much she missed a simple blanket, and how it cradled her body. Finally, some normalcy in this bloody mess.

She lays there, blinking at mini ornate chandelier on the ceiling. She turns to the clock in the room, she's laid awake for over forty minutes! This…isn't good. Delia flips to one side, then her other, until the blankets are too warm. She kicks it off, feeling the familiar chill of the basement room from last night.

Does she dare ask Theo to share her bed? Her cheeks flush—what if he's naked again? It wouldn’t matter, as she tells herself time and time again—he won't touch her. She's going to marry a man who is most likely not interested in women. And, that has to be okay. It's the most normal thing going for her right now.

With her decision made, she hops out of bed, walking to the living room where the couch is. To her surprise, he's not there. She faces the balcony, his bare back outlined by the full moon's light.

He's wearing flannel pants this time.

_Thank god._

He turns to face her, his golden eyes almost glowing in the dark. She tenses, unsure of him but he waves her over. She follows his direction, joining Theo as she looks up into the starry night sky.

“Couldn’t sleep either?”

“Nah. It’s too quiet.” Theo states at her. “You?”

“It was too warm, couldn’t get comfy—wait, why was it too quiet for you?”

“I got used to your snoring. It's the perfect white noise …drowns everything out.”

“I-I do not _snore!”_ She raises a finger to him. “You clearly mistook that snoring noise for something else.”

“You and I both know that my ears weren’t mistaken.” He says with emotionless conviction, but his face dips a bit as he says, “I found it too quiet, perhaps we may share a room so I can be lulled to sleep once again by that scrupulous sound.” Theo’s face did not move an inch as he spoke. He's being serious.

“Don’t make fun of me—and I don't snore!” Delia crosses her arms against her chest and tucks her leg behind her other one. “But…if you want to…we can share a room. I know your secret.”

“What secret?”

Delia’s violet eyes glint with mischief. “That you're into men. It makes sense, given that you don’t act like a straight man would in these kind of circumstances.”

“You think that because I don’t leer at you, I must be gay? No. I'm polite and respectful. I have a little sister, and I treat women how I would treat her.”

“You treat her with criticism and rudeness? Interesting.” Delia turns around, letting out a disappointed sigh. “I must not be your type, then. _”_

“I never said you weren’t attractive. I wouldn’t have agreed to marry a woman I wouldn’t wish to bed.”

Delia's face is stained red…this guy has no filter. “I-I…see…I guess it's good to know you find me somewhat appealing.”

“Do you find me suitable? I figured you did from how you would gawk over my presence but…I could have mistaken.”

She does not _gawk!_ Delia closes her eyes, “Yes, I do find you suitable so let’s not dwell on the subject. I'm going to bed, I’ll leave the door open for you to join me.” Her cheeks burn as her stomach tingles with excitement.

 _Theo thinks she's hot!_ That shouldn’t excite her! This was the wrong time for such thoughts, especially since she invited him to her bed. She scurries back to the room, jumping under her covers…maybe it's because having his presence around made her feel safe. Being watched from potentially every corner was nerve-wracking, but being alone was even more so. She relaxes when she hears Theo enter, the familiar weight shift of the mattress brings her relaxation. She also notices that he doesn’t get under the covers—which is suitable for her.

Delia smiles as she says a simple, “Good night!”

“Night.” Theo adds, “That gown you're wearing has the texture of a thinly veiled curtain. Consider covering up properly next time.”

Delia can feel blood rush to her face, engulfing it whole. “It’s supposed to be for _sleeping_ not for public view. If you don’t like what you see, don't look.”

“Who in their right mind wouldn’t appreciate that kind of view—erm—good night.”

“What’s wrong, haven’t seen a woman's body before?” Delia chuckles lightly at her throwback, but Theo remains still. There's a bit of pride knowing she struck a chord within him.

Good. It might teach him next time to keep his mouth shut and filter his bloody words!

This is the first time Delia has ever visited the Avangard Manor. It’s a fine sprawling estate that was bigger than theirs—the long winding driveway intimidates her from by the sheet length alone. She and Theo ride in the back of a limo, driven by one of their captors. It wasn’t Two, which compared to this guy’s _“you better not blow our cover”_ and _“get that island”,_ he would have been better company. Honest to god, if she hears the word _island_ one more time, she’s going to stab her ear-drums out with a fork.

Theo sported a similar outfit to yesterday’s, swapping out the burgundy dress shirt with a violet one. Delia coincidentally had a violet cocktail dress stashed in her things, so she chose that for this occasion. It's better if they looked the part of a happily engaged couple, even if it’s something corny like matching colours. 

Theo ditched his glasses for the event, making his golden eyes that much brighter. They were hypnotizing to look at—Delia could seize this as an opportunity. She must indulge in what she finds appealing in this man.

“Hmm?” he says, noticing her stare. 

“You look different without your glasses.”

“I've never slept with them though..." He scratches his chin. "Does it look bad?”

“No, it suits you either way.”

Theo offers a polite nod. “Good. Grandfather encourages me to show off my chiselled features…which sounds ridiculous when I repeat his words out loud.”

“Chiselled?” Delia laughs so hard that she snorts. “That’s a bit far, but yes, you look handsome.” She didn’t mean to outwardly compliment him like that, but, it wasn’t a lie.

“I wear them when I’m working but I don’t need them to see. I’ve also been told I look smarter with them on...also, you're being unusually polite."

“We have to pretend that we're in love with each other. I’m trying to get into that mindset.”

“Yes, that is wise. Very well,” Theo shimmies next to Delia and drapes an arm around her. “Let’s get used to touching each other I…suppose.”

“Please don’t say it like that,” Delia says, her face burning.

“You know what I meant.” He growls, but he doesn't move. “He might expect that we kiss.”

Delia's heart hammers at the thought. But if he does…god…would they be able to pull that off? Two people who were very much in love and were planning to elope would have no problem kissing in front of others…

“If he does, we'll have to,” Delia says briskly.

“I know. Should we just get it out of the way or—”

“—NO THAT'S—that's not what I’m getting at.” Delia stammers, his arm being around her is already hard enough to manage. “We don’t have to kiss now, just when we're expected to.”

“Agreed.” Theo nods. He backs off from her, just in time for the limo to stop. They arrived.

Orchids and roses line the paved drive, weaving around a three-tiered fountain. The cream coloured brick gave a new feel to the traditional look and blended with their garden quite nicely. The stairwell wasn’t too high, which Delia was thankful for in case she tripped and fell from her nerves. Another good thing is that she decided to wear a short dress. 

“Don’t do anything stupid.” The deep gruff voice warns the couple before they leave the limo, Theo playing the gentleman and opens the door for Delia. She takes his hand, her heart beating wildly as she continues to hold it. 

_It's showtime!_


	4. Chapter 4

The foyer's ornate chandelier reflects the soft warm light across the ceiling. It wasn’t necessary for the chandelier to be on, but it kept Delia occupied as she couldn’t bear to look at the man standing beside her. Her hand squeezes around his as she attempts to relax, but nothing’s working. It’s a very good thing that she never got into acting. From the stairwell she sees a tall, older well-dressed man; he hurries his pace to greet them. As he approaches, Delia notices that his is hair more salt than pepper. His face hints that in his younger years, he looked exactly like Theo.

“Good day, good day!” He exclaims as he pats Theo on the shoulder. “You look to be in fantastic spirits, my boy!”

“Grandfather,” Theo nods.

“And you must be Delia. Just look at you—a cute little woman you are!” He turns to Delia, his eyes wide with childlike excitement. She swears he's going to pinch her cheeks, but he doesn’t. “My name is Milo Avangard. A pleasure to finally see you in person.” He grins; he's very different than what she expected. He gestures to Theo, “Come, show her off, show her off!”

Theo clears his throat, his face showing mild disturbance from his grandfather’s ushering, but he stays quiet as they follow him. Milo turns to Delia, “I hope you can mind my Theo—he can be a stick in the mud.”

 _Wow, she would never have gotten that impression,_ Delia rolls her eyes as she thinks to herself. 

Theo lets go of her hand and sticks it in his pocket, which suited her fine. His palms were starting to get clammy anyway.

They follow him to the entertainment room; Delia holds her hand to her mouth when she sees her grandmother sitting on the chair, next to Thorne. He hops off of the antique couch, rushing to meet his sister.

“Dee, I’m glad you're here!” Her younger brother stands heads taller than her. He's built like a bodyguard, but he’s too soft for the job. His brown eyes look at Theo for a moment before he holds out his hand. “I’m Thorne Bellaham…erm…Bellaham-Firthe.”

“Theo Avangard.” He replies, shaking Thorne's hand. They matched each other in size but held completely different personalities.

“Welcome to the family!” Thorne gives him a hard pat on the back. “Dee’s been lonely for quite some time, she could never keep a man around long enough to marry her—ouch!” Delia smiles wryly as her fingers pinch harder on Thorne's waist.

“Is that so?” Theo smiles, amused at Thorne's words. She rolls her eyes—she’s not going to dignify Thorne’s words with a response. It’s time to say hello to her grandmother.

Cordelia has the same idea; she sees the older woman coming towards them.

“See? Didn’t I say it would all work out?” Cordelia smiles softly, patting Delia’s back.

“Yeah,” She feigns happiness. If only she could mention that it was a façade to score an island for the _Odious Oranges_ —those very thieves being the hired bodyguards scattered around the mansion. God knows what they would do to her and her family if she blabbed. Delia can’t afford to risk their safety. 

“You look upset—why?” Her grandmother’s steel-blue eyes glare at her.

“It’s nothing—just tired from the last few days.”

"I do say it’s suspicious that you fell for the Avangard boy so swiftly but I’m the last person on this earth to judge you. I fell in love with your grandfather quite quickly, and it astonishes me to this day that we had a nice long life together—a life that I longed for you to experience as well.” She looks misty-eyed. “Thank you so much for giving Theodore a chance. You have saved our family from ruin.”

“It’s no problem. I told you I’d give it a try—and—we’re just the perfect match.”

“Ah, he must like eggs too.” Cordelia grins, “Is he a good cook? He could help you run Eggcellent Eats.”

“In time,” Delia closes her eyes—lying to her grandmother churns her stomach. She needs to switch the subject. “I know Grandfather had passed a few years ago, but have you considered Milo? He’s quite handsome for an older man.”

"Milo? Oh heavens, no! He’s a friend and a business partner. I’d say he and your grandfather were more of a match than anything, but thankfully he only had eyes for me. Three is a crowd in any relationship.” She chuckles. “Besides, I couldn't be with him. That man doesn’t know the art of subtlety, and we can't have two Firthes marrying Avangards, could we?” Did she assume Oli and Delius weren't going to marry? “I am curious, however—was it is that made you fall for Theodore so hastily?”

“We have chemistry—it’s hard to explain.” A lie if she ever told one…she hopes her grandmother will buy it.

Cordelia’s eyes soften. “I thank you again for all you’ve done for us, Delia.” It dashes her hopes that her grandmother believed Delia so easily, but she couldn’t afford to let it slip. Theo needs to convince his grandfather for that island while the man is in a good mood.

“Excuse me,” Delia pardons herself, glancing around for Theo—good, he was still talking to his grandfather. What were they talking about? She should intrude on their conversation while they’re still chatting. Twisting a curl of her hair, she decides to approach them. Delia needs to act like this is something she really wants. That would be the best way to approach this, right? God, she hopes so.

“Hey, I’m just here to drop in. Just seeing what’s going on over on this side of the room, you know? So—what you are guys talking about?" _God, that sounded so fake!_

Theo raises a brow as he stares at Delia in confusion.

“Not much…uh…just catching up on stuff.” She can hear the _why are you bothering us_ in his voice. He freezes momentarily, the realization set in. He pulls Delia in with his arm briskly, the suddenness of his actions startles her into a gasp. “Were you lonely?” He says insincerely.

“A bit, but I mean, we were joined at the hip for the last three days. True paradise when I’m by your side.” God, her lines sound so _forced!_ She hopes Milo is as stupid as Theo said he was.

“Ah yes, where are my manners? Theo, you need to show Delia around the house, since this will be her new home.”

 _WHAT?!_ There was never any talk about her living in the Avangard Manor at all! What's with this change? Wait, no, this is perfect! Delia can interject here.

“Well, I was thinking about something else…like…maybe we could live somewhere private…like have our own island.” Delia smiles, lightly resting her hand on Theo’s chest. She can feel his heartbeat through her palm; his muscles tensing presumably from the stress of her question.

Milo frowns, “I’m old, quite old in fact. As much as I would like to give you what you ask, how will I meet my great-grandchildren if they are so remote?”

Theo coughs. 

“But, think of all the press that will be crowding us if we don’t have a remote space. I don’t think Theo and I can bring children into this world under that kind of pressure. I want to raise my babies in peace.” Delia says, feigning confidence.

“I assure you, dear, that you will be protected here. I will not let any harm come to my family no matter what.”

Was he insinuating that she would become an Avangard herself? That wasn’t going to happen!

“Delia's right. You’re not getting any great-grandchildren unless you give us an island.” Theo's voice is firm. She appreciates the backup.

“That’s not fair.” His grandfather pouts. “Dangling one of my long-time wishes over my head like that.” He pauses, sighing in defeat. “How about this—once my first great-grandchild is born, then I’ll purchase any small island you want.” Delia exchanges worried glances with Theo. _That was a terrible agreement!_ “Forgive an old man for putting you two in this situation, but Theo is my only hope to continue our family name. But, that’s what the honeymoon phase is for, after all.” Milo let’s out a hearty chuckle.

“Please stop talking,” Theo stresses heavily.

So much for getting that island right away. God, who knows how long they’d be trapped under the thumb of these guys. Couldn’t Delia just steal a baby and be done with the ordeal? This isn’t how she wants to start a family. Thank god Milo's attention drifts to her grandmother. It gives them a chance to breathe.

“What did you ask him about the island for? I was going to ask when we were _alone._ ” Theo whispers under his breath.

“I didn’t know that!”

“Now he’s going to expect us to have some brat!”

“No worries there, _Theodore._ I wouldn’t sleep with you unless I loved you—”

“Not so loud,” Theo warns. “If the wrong person hears us, we are screwed.”

From the corner of her eye, she catches the sight of her twin brother, Delius. She didn’t even know he was here—he hated formal engagements since they were kids. Beside him is a small, slim girl with the same dark hair and chestnut skin Theo has, although her eyes were a vibrant fuchsia. It's been a few since she’s seen Thea. Delia huffs, maybe they weren’t interested in each other but at least they got on well. Her and Theo are just not a match for each other.

Delius glances in Delia's direction, walking over to her. Thea follows.

“Hey bro,” Thea waves, eyeing him up and down. “Fancy shirt u got on.”

Theo pulls a face but says nothing. She looks at Delia, “Kinda feel sorry that you gotta take my place, but you look happy at least. Still mystified me that you’d choose to be with my bro, though. She lets out a cackle. “But whatever, I guess you’re part of our clan now—for better or worse.”

“Thanks…” Delia looks at her brother, he doesn’t say anything until Thea drags Theo away by the arm. Delius moves closer to his sister, eyeing her suspiciously.

“You aren’t doing this because you want to. I can see it written all over your face.”

Delia isn’t sure what to say. She looks up at her brother tempted to tell her what was really going on. She can’t afford to be honest with him.

 _“What’s he done?”_ Delius comes to the wrong conclusion.

“Theo isn’t at fault,” she corrects herself, “It’s just nerves before the wedding.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit. I know you too well—you need time to get used to someone in your space. You would never jump on a wedding—never mind elope—with someone you just met. I’ve met Theo before—he’s not your type.” Delius crosses his lean arms as he steps forward. “I told Grandmother this wouldn’t work.”

"Really?" Delia's skeptical, but she's not going to cause a scene. She changes the subject, “Where’s Oli.” 

“You know he can’t be here—he’s not allowed in the manor.” She sees the sulk in his lips. “We’ll talk about this later—I need a quick word with Grandmother.”

Panic begins to bubble in Delia’s throat as she watches her brother head towards their grandmother. She has to flee the scene before she makes a spectacle of herself. Delia runs into the hall, looking for a room to hide to. The panic in her chest is so close to bursting. She's spotted by one of the men in black—he speeds in her direction. _Fuck!_ He’s going to storm her down—and she can’t call for help! She squeaks, spinning on her heel as she sprints in the opposite direction, but she knows it’s not going to work out for her. She’s always sucked in track-and-field. It’s not much, but maybe she can chuck her shoe at him. Before Delia grabs her shoe, the man snags her by the arm, yanking her off of her feet. His large hand covers her mouth before she has the chance to scream.

“You best be quiet, _bitch.”_

Delia shakes, the gun incident flashing through her mind as he drags her out of sight.

“You don’t get to run away.” His menacing tone causes her to whimper—but it’s so soft there’s no way anyone would hear it. “When Boss finds out that you were sneaking around, you’re gonna be in real shit, _princess.”_

Minutes feel like hours as he holds her in silence. What was the man waiting for?! He couldn’t hold her in the nook of this hallway forever—someone would notice her disappearance.

Eventually, he lets go, “Now behave yourself, and no running off—you hear? Or I won’t hesitate to snap your neck.” Delia drops to her knees, scrambling to get up. She hurries to the main room but collides into an unfortunate body.

Delia lets out a scream, but immediately backtracks when she sees it’s her befuddled fiancé.

“Where the hell were you?” Theo scolds her, the roughness of his voice springs tears in Delia’s eyes.

“Delius knew something was up! Don’t blame me for it! I had to get out of there.” She turns around as the tears begin to fall. “I’m trying my best here!”

“…Sorry.” He says, resting a hand on her shoulder. “I didn’t mean to get short.”

“It’s not you—its this whole thing!” She can’t help herself…the tears just kept coming.

“The party isn’t until tonight anyway—so follow me.” He leads Delia from the hallway, she's too puffy-eyed to notice what's around her. He opens a door, leading her into a room with matching red décor. She doesn’t notice much except that there are two cat carvings on his desk—one unfinished. He encourages her to sit on the bed; it's softer than she expects. He hands her a box of tissues.

“One of the bodyguards held me against a wall…he thought I was trying to run away.” She whispers, her voice shaky. Her lips start to quiver as she feels an overwhelming sense of dizziness hit her. “I-if we don’t get that island for them, we're going to be f-f-fucked—”

Theo stiffens, his demeanour turns serious. _“Who attacked you?”_

“Don’t go after him—he said he wouldn’t hesitate to snap my neck if I told anyone.” She manages to speak clearly before sobbing.

“I can’t believe these bastards would dare to harm you in my own house.” His growl is strong. “You’re not leaving my sight until we can shake them off for good…I’ll force my grandfather’s hand—he’ll have no choice but to buy us that island,” Theo says in an attempt to reassure her, but she can't hear his words.

“I’m going to die because I’m broke…I-I'm going to die and my own family won’t realize it until it’s too late—” She clutches her chest as her breathing becomes irregular, “you’re going to be fine but I’m going to die—”

Theo says nothing, rubbing his hand in a circular motion onto her back. She feels it but doesn’t register it's him. Her thoughts are her own worst enemy. After a few minutes, she’s able to calm herself.

“We won’t be under the tyranny of these dicks for much longer,” Theo mutters.

“What if your grandfather refuses?”

“I have to tell him why we need it. It'll take too long to do it his way.”

“That’s too dangerous!” Panic wells up in her chest. 

“We have little options.” Theo doesn’t raise his voice at her. “I’ll do what must be done. As long as that group gets their stupid island, we should be off the hook. We’ve got two days before we leave the manor.”

He’s right. It calms her further to know that she’s not alone in this. “But I still have to get married.” Delia flops on the back of the bed, staring up at the ceiling. “My grandmother’s counting on the money.”

“One thing at a time, right?”

“Yeah.” She closes her eyes, “I’m supposed to play the part of a love-struck fiancée in a house where our enemy constantly has their eyes on us. It’s exhausting.”

“I feel that.” Theo sighs.

“I guess you aren’t so bad.” Delia manages to say. “I feel safe when I'm with you, so that must count for something.” Theo looks taken aback; she doesn’t see his crimson-stained cheeks. “Although, you probably think that my only perk is that I look good in your sweaters.” Theo sucks in his breath. His silence is confirmation, but it makes her laugh weakly.

“I wouldn’t say that's it.” Theo’s voice strains in awkwardness.

“I didn’t mind. It was nice that you found me appealing in some way.” He's right, she recalls last night's conversation too. She was attractive enough to sleep with, in his opinion, and he wasn’t anything to sneeze at either—but, looks weren’t everything. They didn’t know anything about each other.

“I told you if I didn’t find you pretty that I wouldn’t have agreed to the marriage.”

“Then why did you agree in the first place?”

“To get Thea out of a bind. I mean you’re marrying me to get your family out of debt, yeah?”

She nods, “I’d like for us to get along too you know—maybe we could find happiness together. If it wasn’t for the added stress of those hitmen.”

“That does put a damper in things.” Theo turns to look at her. “But, that’d be nice. Before you get your hopes up, I’m no romantic. I’m not gonna be singing to you over supper or bring you flowers every morning.”

Delia smiles weakly, “I don’t need you to.”

“What do you want, then?” 

“Someone who accepts me for _me,_ you know?”

Theo pauses, contemplating his answer. “That’s a tall order—you’re pretty weird.”

 _That’s_ what he has to say?! Delia’s eyes flare, “Excuse you, _Mr. I-Drown-My-Food-In-Pepper.”_

“Don’t think I’ll change my mind with that because I won’t. I love pepper.”

“I can see that.” Delia sighs. She lifts herself off of the bed, looking around his room. Her gaze settles on the wooden cats on the desk. “Those your wood carvings?” 

“Yes.”

It was about time the conversation drifted elsewhere.

Like Theo promised, he didn’t let Delia out of his sight. They spent the following hours discussing their hobbies and quips about their lives. She had no idea Theo was patient enough to carve wooden sculptures, or that his dream animal was a Persian cat—or that he played the Blacksmith class every time in video games. She thought of him to be a strict person, but no, he was a quiet man. Still irritating, but that was expected of someone with such a blunt nature. The real question remained; could she learn to love someone like him? Whether she did or not didn’t matter at this moment. With dinner finished and all of Milo’s guests here at the manor, it was time to immerse herself in the role. Everyone arrived, expecting a loving couple to fawn over.

It’s their job to become that couple.

The smell of lavender perfumed the air and the atmosphere was alive with the chatter of dozens of happy guests. The finger foods were a work of art, elegantly placed by those who knew what they were doing. It was impossible for Delia to be tempted not to take a bite—but it was easy when presented with her current circumstance. They were passed around like an object—people reaching out to them touching their hands, shoulders, or kissing Delia’s hand. It was gross—but she endured. Delia did most—if not all of the talking—the knowledge of romance movies being her greatest crutch, the crowd eating it up. One couple commented that the blush of newness was obvious on Delia’s cheeks—and how nice it must have been to harbour such love for each other. Delia’s mastery in bullshit was unfounded—and appreciated by her, and Theo. Her biggest success story was how Theo proposed so quickly and spontaneously that he wasn’t prepared with a ring to propose with. She was intercepted a couple of times by Thea—begging for Delia to hide her from Thorne, but that wasn’t a problem she was ready to tackle. To be frank, she was still bitter that Thea was able to back out of her engagement, so she could afford to suffer at the annoyance of her brother. It was her tiny solace for tonight. 

A soft jazz ballad plays from the speakers above them. Delia hadn’t noticed that there were any until the music started playing. She sees the crowd around them partner up—readying to dance with each other. She glances at Theo—who reads her mind word for word. But expectant eyes would notice the oddity of a newly engaged couple refusing the opportunity to get close—so Delia makes the first move. She places her hand on Theo’s waist, moving so close that her chest presses against his torso. The contact sends an electric charge through her stomach. He notices it too, as he can’t bring himself to look at her, but he didn’t need to. As long as he moves with her, it should be fine.

“Relax a little, or you’re going to give us away,” Delia says in a hushed tone.

“I can’t with you so close—back up a little.”

“Relax and put your arm on my shoulder.”

Theo lets out a frustrated sigh, however, does what is asked of him. God knows how many eyes are on them. “I don’t need your boobs smooshed against my stomach.”

“Oh my god, they aren’t!” Delia says with annoyance. “Besides it can’t be helped—a loving partner wouldn’t complain about such things—so keep those comments to yourself.”

Theo grumbles something inaudible but he doesn’t raise any more complaints. Where was the Theo that calmed her down after her panic attack? She wants him back.

Delia glances around the room—both relieved and worried that she didn’t see that bodyguard man who jumped her. Did he go back to base to report what he’s done? If he did—would the others think that Delia had defaulted? She can’t risk that. No—she can’t afford to think of that now. This is a moment that she’s supposed to enjoy—or at least—pretend that she enjoys this. She rests her head on his chest, hearing his quickened heartbeat. It’s soothing—even if he’s going to complain about it later. She closes her eyes, allowing her mind to get lost within the rhythm of the music. This is a nice moment—she was in desperate need of one. Could this last, even five more minutes? She would be forever grateful if it could. No kidnappers, no arranged marriages, just peace.

Peace is all she needs.

The hall grows quiet as Delia opens her eyes. Milo waves his hands in the air.

“He’s going to be an imbecile, isn’t he?” Theo whispers under his breath.

“Why do you say that?” Delia whispers back.

“He’s a thick-headed man with a lot of money, he’s going to do something stupid. It’s the law.”

“That hardly means anything—” she gets cut off by Milo’s speech:

“Ladies, _Gentleman._ Welcome to my bi-weekly shindig. As you all know, I have thrown this lovely get together in honour of my grandson Theodore’s engagement to the lovely Cordelia—no, not this lovely maiden—her granddaughter over there!” He points to them—his guests’ eyes follow. “They have met in the most unusual of circumstances and have found love within moments of meeting each other—so much so that they have planned to elope. My gift to these two lovely young people is a celebration with both of our families and friends.”

“God, please tell me he’s not going to—” she sees Theo mouth.

“We have decided to hold the union—here—in front of you all! C’mon up you two!”

“Fucking _idiot…”_ Theo curses, as Delia’s mouth gapes.

Did Milo mean for them to get married?

_Right now?!_


	5. Chapter 5

Delia and Theo exchange glances of shocked, unadulterated panic. It’s not like there was a minister that could marry them here—but for the head of the Avangard household, anything would be achievable. All he would have to do is throw money at whoever he wanted to do his bidding. Was that what was happening here? Did he pay off someone to act as a minister? Or was Milo going to marry them himself and forage the documents later? With the story Delia managed to curate with the public, marriage was the next logical step. But to do it here—in front of these people, never mind her family, it was a blow all too real. If they refused, there would be suspicion. If they accepted, it would dissolve any speculation that their love wasn’t real. She looks at Theo, her eyes pleading for him to say something.

“This is…sudden…but Delia and I have made up our minds. We want to elope.” Theo says, less than convincingly.

There's a glint of knowing in the older man's eyes. Did he expect Theo to refuse? Milo strides over to Theo, whispering, “My boy, you don’t want to disappoint your poor, aged, _ready to journey to his deathbed_ grandfather, do you?” He lowers his eyes knowingly at Delia before he veers off to the side with his grandson. Delia watches their faces carefully, it’s a shame she can’t read lips. But Theo’s golden eyes remain unchanged as the two converse. The murmurs in the crowd determine the same question Delia has—what _are_ they saying to each other? Between the excited and disappointed looks the man gave his grandson, it could be anything. She won’t let her imagination pull her into a dark spiral, no matter how tempting it was to let her thoughts run wild. With great speed, Theo paces towards Delia.

“We’re gonna get married _here_ in three days—you okay with that?” He mutters.

“S-Sure?” She peeps. It’s not like she could say no to the man she supposedly _loves_ and _adores,_ especially in front of awaiting respectful eyes. It’s better than _right this second_ , but the thought still makes her uneasy.

Theo offers a nod to his grandfather. It doesn’t take the older man long to regain his natural form. “My guests, the bride and groom have agreed to get married in front of us after all—the wedding shall commence in three nights. A reminder to wear something light as the wishes from the couple—it’s going to be a casual yet momentous occasion!”

The crowd around them claps, excited for the impending nuptials.

It doesn’t take long for the crowd to disperse for the night. Milo and Thea were absent, bidding the guests farewell. Delius stares at her from a distance, his deep violet stare is clear to her; he doesn’t trust Theo. Her grandmother and Thorne are locked in conversation.

“Say goodnight to your family; we have to talk about this,” Theo says, his voice serious and foreboding. From the corner of her eye, she sees long, skinny legs approaching her.

_God no…_

“Hey,” Delius’s voice is low, almost gravelly—different than the calm, elegant tone she’s used to hearing from his lips. “A word?”

Theo blinks, glancing over to Delia for help.

“Now isn’t the time, Deel—Theo and I are tired from today’s events.”

“Then I’ll say it quickly—Don’t you dare think you can force my sister into doing whatever you please just because you’re giving us money.”

Theo’s brows pinch together as he squints in confusion.

“Deel!” She hisses lowly, “I told you everything’s fine. I’m marrying Theo because I want to.”

“You’re not—and _he_ isn’t making it easy for you. I notice how disinterested he looks when he’s with you—there’s no way I’m buying this.”

“I want to be with her,” Theo says, but his voice is still less than convincing.

“See? We’re very much in love—now if you’ll excuse us—”

“I wasn’t done talking.” Delius grabs Theo’s sleeve—god—does he have a death wish? Yes, he matched Theo in height but his lanky frame wouldn’t hold up against Theo’s fists. “Don’t think you can fuck around with our family.”

“Deel, that’s enough!” Delia interjects, smacking his hand away. “What’s more insulting is that you’re not listening to what I’m saying. Theo isn’t the problem here!”

“Than what is?” Delius removes his hand from Theo’s sleeve to cross his arms.

“Uh—”

Well, shit!

“Well, if Theo isn’t the issue—what is, sister?” His curious violet eyes await an answer. 

“It’s you—nosing in where you shouldn’t. I’m sick and tired of you butting into my life when you should keep to yourself. You’re Grandmother’s golden child, getting everything that you could ever want, leaving me with all your dirty work. Hell, you even got out of a marriage you didn’t want—and guess what—now it’s on me to fix our family’s finances because you found _true love_ or whatever. So yeah, I appreciate that Theo has a sense of responsibility—it’s something that you clearly lack. You could learn a thing or two from him.”

“I…wasn’t aware you felt that way.” Delius coughs in shock, his eyes wide as saucers. Delia doesn’t notice that her grandmother and Thorne were gawking from the other side of the room.

“You wouldn’t because you never paid attention to how I feel. I don’t even know why you’re worried about me—you never gave three shits before. You know what, I’m tired. Come on Theo,” She grabs his hand, pulling him from the entertainment room. She’s too riled to notice the bodyguard who assaulted her, staring from afar as he doesn’t leave his post. When Delia storms down the wrong hall, Theo gently leads her to his room. She had only noticed that his bedroom was on the first floor.

“Wow, I almost believed that was real.” Theo says as he shuts the door behind him.

“I had to alleviate suspicion somehow.” Delia sighs, holding her arms close to her chest. "And it was real, kind of. I guess—I don't know." 

“Sounds like you kept that in for a while.”

“Yeah…” She’ll tell herself that it’s the stress that forced her to say those awful things.

“He has a right to be concerned.”

“Deel never cared before.” Delia pouts. “Doubt he does now—maybe there’s some secret perk I’m unaware of that he wants for himself.”

“You think I’m responsible, huh?”

“That kinda came out—I didn’t really think about what I was saying.” Delia stammers. “Don’t take it to heart.”

“I won’t.” There’s a ghost of a smile on Theo’s lips. It disappears when he reminds her, “As for Grandfather, he baited me on purpose. Said that he’d buy us any island we wanted around the cape, as long as we get married and live here for least a year.”

“We got the island?!” Delia gasps.

“Yes, but…that’s not all. He wants you to take the Avangard name—the marriage as he said, was proposed to bring our families, and our finances together. He wants proof that you’re not going to jump ship as soon as the Firthes get their shares—guess he didn’t buy our love-story.” Normally, this would make Delia furious—but she had to weigh her options. Become an Avangard and be free, or keep her last name and be under the thumb of those awful kidnappers for the rest of her life. “I know it’s not what you want, but…” Theo’s voice is surprisingly strained.

“I don’t think I want to be a Firthe anyway.” Delia sighs, staring at her feet.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine—you did what you have to do. After the wedding, we can choose an island and then they’ll be off of our backs. We’ll have no issues after that.”

“You’ll be married to me,” Theo says with his arms crossed. “Isn’t that still an issue to you?”

“Marrying you doesn’t seem as dismal as it once did—given the turn of events.” Delia looks up at the ceiling.

Theo wryly chuckles. “I don’t know how to feel about that.”

“It’s not like I’m the girl of your dreams either, so it’s not just me. At least I get the funds to open my Eatery.”

“Lemme guess, it has some kind of egg-pun.”

“Eggcellent Eats isn’t a joke—it serves all kinds of egg-cellent dishes.” God, did she just say her tag line out loud?

It goes ignored by Theo. “Given your pepper-phobic tendencies, I assume that I’d have to bring my own packets.”

Delia feels her brows lift in surprise. “You’d eat there?”

“Something gives me the impression that you’re passionate about eggs. Means the food’s gotta be tasty, yeah?”

“Of course the food’s good—why would I bother if it wasn’t?” She snaps, immediately regretting the words that spewed. “I didn’t mean to sound cranky, it’d be nice if you ate there.”

“It’d look poor on me if I didn’t eat at my wife’s establishment at least once, right? I'm an influencer, remember, my followers are gonna comment if I don't eat there at least once.”

“Yeah…”

The room’s thick with silence for over fifteen minutes. Delia can’t bear it any longer. “Alright, so if we’re going to do this thing, I want to start it off right.” Theo looks at her with curiosity, his back now leaning against the wall. “We can sleep in the same bed just fine, so there’s no rouse to suspicion, but we’ve never had a real kiss." 

“We’ll kiss at the ceremony.”

She ignores his rigid tone. “We need to _try_ to be romantic with each other.”

“So…you want to kiss now?”

“Yes—no—soon. Soon! But not right this second.”

“I told you I’m not a romantic.”

Her expression grows sardonic. “No surprise there. The only thing we have remotely in common is the trauma from being threatened at gunpoint.” Tears well in her eyes as soon as her lips utter the word gun. Theo’s face softens as he approaches her.

“You don’t have to comfort me.” Delia brings her hand up to discourage him from coming over.

“I don’t, but…” He stops mid-sentence. It’s clear on his face that he doesn’t know what to say.

“It’s nice of you to care.”

Theo’s offended by her gesture. “I’m not unfeeling. This isn’t sitting well with me either you know. I hate feeling like I have no control.” His fists are white-knuckled. “This isn’t how I’d imagine things would go.”

“How did you imagine things to be, then?” Delia says with curiosity as she wipes her eyes with her fingertips.

“I didn’t know anything about you other than you were Delius’s sister. I knew there may be a chance that we’d marry, so I decided to look you up. The picture I found of you was you in an apron and a do-rag, serving sandwiches at a roadside kiosk.”

Wait, that’s the picture he saw? But she looked frumpy as all hell!

“I thought you said you wouldn’t have married me unless you thought I was good looking. That picture—I was overworked but the papers wanted a gossip column considering that I’m a Firthe, working at a grease trap as they called it. I don’t even own a deep fryer!”

“I’m not interested in women who only doll themselves up and nothing else. I like that you have a goal that you’re working towards—makes you compelling.”

Delia’s cheeks burn at the comment. That’s surprisingly kind. “That’s…very sweet of you.” She doesn’t know what to say beyond that.

“It wasn’t meant to be sweet. I’m being honest.”

A glimmer of faith swirls in her chest. Maybe there’s hope for a fulfilling relationship after all. Delia reaches for Theo’s hand, her heart quickening its speed as she brings it to her lips. She kisses them, lowering his hand.

“W-what was that for?”

“I didn’t know how else to show my appreciation.” Delia smiles, biting her bottom lip from her bashfulness. Kissing him outright was too much. At least, right now.

“You don’t have to—I don’t expect you to do anything behind closed doors.”

“Are you uncomfortable with intimacy?”

“No. What I’m uncomfortable with is, is that you’d go so far as to fake affection for me. As I said plenty of times, I don’t expect you to touch me.” Now he’s making this unnecessarily awkward. 

“I didn’t realize a simple kiss made you so timid.” Delia raises a brow at him.

“Don’t tease me.” He warns, but Delia doesn’t feel threatened.

“Lighten up. If I can’t tease you, it’ll be a very dull marriage.” The boning from her dress starts to dig into her ribs. “That being said, can you unzip me? I can manage it myself, but it’ll be easier with your assistance.” She’s not trying to be sexy; she wants to be free from the shackles of her dress wear.

Theo rolls his eyes, but he raises his hand to her zipper. The sound tingles against her ears as he unzips her garment, his hand resting on her hip. “There.”

Should she let her dress glide down to her ankles? Or was that too risqué? Delia lets gravity decide her fate as the purple garment falls to her ankles, leaving her in her matching purple undergarments. She sees Theo’s panicked expression, his eyes dart to the floor immediately. It’s cute to see how embarrassed he is.

Delia tilts her head as she approaches him. “It’s okay to look at me.”

“I know.” He says, his gaze leagues away from her.

“I’m not trying to seduce you; I just needed some help.”

Theo relaxes slightly as he gives her short glances. “Kinda feels like it when you’re standing there half-naked.”

“I assure you, that wasn’t my intention.”

“Until you put something else on, I’m going to the bathroom.” Theo paces quickly to the door on the other side of the room—she thought it was a closet door but she was clearly mistaken. Delia shrugs. Well, guess it was the perfect time to change into her bedclothes. Delia digs into her suitcase, opting for a black tank top and polka-dotted pyjama shorts since Theo made a stink about her chemise being see-through. What was he, a man of the church? Most men wouldn’t complain about such things, especially wealthy, attractive men. What was Theo's deal?

He comes back out, wearing the same flannel pants he wore at the hotel. He gets to parade around with his toned abs, looking like a snack while he had to be weird and shame her for being in her underwear. It’s not like she was swinging her tits in front of him!

She huffs, it's time to remind him of that fact.

“I find it incredibly rude that you make such a big deal with me being in my underwear while you stripped down to your nethers the very first night.”

“We were trapped, I had no choice to.”

“My point still stands.” She scolds.

“My bed's smaller than the one at the hotel, so I’ll make a pillow wall.” Theo opts to say instead, opening his dresser to take out excess dress cushions.

“Relax, we're going to be married in a matter of days—I think we can forego any kind of pillow barrier.”

Theo looks at her, placing them individually back in the drawer. “Alright.” He lifts the red bedcover, climbing into the right side. “I’ll be sleeping now. Don’t make too much noise.” He nestles onto his side, closing his eyes. Delia sighs, glancing around her room. It's not like she could browse on her phone—the kidnappers made sure to confiscate them. Maybe going to sleep was the best option. Delia flicks off the light switch, climbing into bed shortly after. The mattress is harder than what she's accustomed to, but it'll make do. Theo was right—he was a lot closer to her in this bed. It didn’t make her uncomfortable but…it did spring feelings she wasn’t expecting.

_Pleasant feelings…_

Delia wakes up, nestling her face into the warmth that is Theo’s bare shoulder. She brushes a thick curl from her face, smelling the faint hint of sandalwood. She blinks wearily before her mind connects the dots. _Oh god!_ She hops up, staring at the man’s bare chest, thank god he wasn’t stirring. She couldn’t bear to think about what he would say if he was awake. His face had a gentle sweetness to it when he was asleep.

She could stare at it for hours—erm, excuse her brain for placing such cursed thoughts into her mind! Yes, this man was to be her husband…but she wasn’t ready for these kinds of thoughts.

Theo stirs, his eyes are barely open before she flings herself to her side of the bed. Maybe he didn’t notice. His stiff posture and the quickness he got out from the sheets did, as he turns away from her. It’s so vapid that the sheets fly with him.

“Goddammit,” he mutters to himself, grabbing the sheet to cover his lap.

“Hey,” she shouts at him. “Don't steal the entire cover, I’m chilly over here!”

“I’m starting to lose my patience with you.” He growls lowly.

“The hell? I’ve literally done nothing to you.”

“You’re messing with my head.” He growls.

“And _how_ am I doing that exactly?!” She hops out of bed, demanding to see his face. He won't look at her. “What have I done—go on—don’t leave me guessing!”

His eyebrows furrow as she sees his lip curl upwards. “I can’t believe you’re so dim that I have to spell it out—I’m a straight man, Delia. I can’t just ignore you parading around wearing skimpy, see-through, or revealing clothing.”

Delia blinks from shock.

“I said I wouldn’t touch you, but it’s not because I don’t want to—It’s because I have respect.” His sudden outburst confuses her, but it excites her at the same time. “But damn, you’re making this awfully hard when I have to wake up and have you half draped on me.”

“That was an accident! I knew you thought I was pretty but...” Delia stutters from his validation. Is that the reason why he was short with her? She didn’t realize that saw her as a woman. That thought alone was entertaining, and much to her surprise, alluring.

“I can’t believe I’m engaged to a bimbo.” Theo curses under his breath. “I’m taking a shower.”

Delia couldn’t be mad; she cackles in her head as she sees him scuffle to the bathroom. She really stirred him up just from an accidental cuddle. That gave her much more pleasure than it should. She had the idle thought of joining him in the shower—no—that wasn’t because she wanted to. She just wanted to tease him more—a newfound hunger thrummed through her as she allowed herself to play with the possibilities.

Maybe they would be better at kissing than talking.

She’s distracted by a dull ache in her mouth. _She forgot to brush her teeth._ However, Theo just walked into the bathroom. And she hears the shower running. She couldn’t barge in now—especially since she’s allegedly a sinful woman. Except Delia didn’t care. At this moment, her comfort far outweighed his. Delia waits until she hears the shower running before she walks into the bathroom. The counter is neat and clean—good to know that her future husband is a tidy man.

Before she turns on the taps, she hears a, “The hell are you doing in the bathroom—wait until I’m done!”

“I’m not waiting to brush my teeth, so deal with it.”

“If you turn on the tap I swear I— _fucking hell!”_

Delia turned it on for only a second to wet her toothbrush. He removes his head from the shower curtain, his dark hair sudsy from the shampoo. She stares back at him; toothbrush in her mouth. She tells him that she’ll only be a minute, but it's muffled between the soapy toothpaste and her lips.

He glares at her before whipping behind the shower curtain. “You get one minute.” Delia finishes up, leaving her toothbrush on the sink. As she leaves, she catches an unusual sight through the window. Her brother Delius on the patio, arms locked with another man wearing a crab tee. His wavy hair frames his charming face, his ruby eyes glistening as he chuckles.

Oh shit, Oli’s here? What’s going to happen when Milo sees him? As if they read her mind, Oli locks lips with Delius for a moment before pulling away. She’s never seen her brother look so defeated—no—just because he was in love didn’t give him the right to mess with Delia’s life! Serves him right to feel a pull of remorse. 

Delia’s interrupted by a firm grunt of the throat; she turns around to see Theo with a towel wrapped around his waist—his torso is lined with glossy moisture. Delia feels her own cheeks burning as she looks away, but she’s not mad about it. If his appeal was the only thing she would focus on, so be it.

“It was…rude to growl at you like that.” He says, his wet messy giving him a boyish look. “I shouldn’t have called you _that_.”

“A bimbo?” Delia raises a brow. She soon shrugs. “I’ve been called worse.” She congratulates herself for not stuttering. Damn, is this how he felt? Maybe he had the right to be angry with her.

The rest of the day was filled with dress fittings at the manor. Delia wasn’t pleased with dress fittings—especially with tailors that seemed to have no patience with her body. They draped a soft eggshell fabric over her minimally clothed frame. Her grandmother had always preferred Delia in blue—said it paired excellently with her honeydew curls, but she refused. She hated blue. Delia was never good at standing still, feeling a sudden urge to jerk and move about. And when those pins reached her skin, _god,_ it hurt! She’ll never forgive that man for being so careless—but thinking about it now, he only had a day to make it. If it was any less than perfect, all her torture would have been for nothing. Delia had asked Theo how the fitting went, and for him, it went seamlessly. She wasn’t sure if that was supposed to be a pun or not, but she ignored it nonetheless. It wasn’t fair that she had to deal with the incompetence of these tailors. But no, with _Theodore_ , they had nothing but the gentlest of hands. Then again, one sour look in their direction would be enough to scare them into professionalism. 

Dinner had been delicious, but the table was scarce when it came to conversation. Milo and Cordelia lead the chatter, but Delia wanted nothing to do with her family. Delius kept to himself, which, _good._ Thorne was animatingly recounting his day to Thea, who looked like she hadn’t been so bored in her life. That managed to get a smile on her face. Theo’s mood perked up when dessert was served, digging his face into the pumpkin pie. He even managed to get some whipped cream on his nose.

The night was also silent, Theo placing the pillow barricade between them. He said nothing to her as he fell asleep, leaving Delia to feel the pang of loneliness. Loneliness was better than fear, but neither were desirable emotions. 

Delia wakes up, her unruly curls are spread out across the cushion. She turns to her side, but as soon as she does, she hears the shower running. Theo’s already getting ready? Did she sleep in late? No, that couldn’t be it—she hadn’t slept in since the mention of her engagement. Delia lets out a deep-rooted sigh before lifting herself from the bed.

Tomorrow would be the wedding. She rubs her eyes, groaning at the thought.

What made it worse is that there was a knock on Theo’s bedroom door. Was it wise for her to answer? It couldn’t be one of those suspicious bodyguards—there’d be no reason for them to contact her so openly. Delia opens the door, a servant hands her the box.

It was her wedding dress.

“What’s in the box?” She hears Theo speak from the other side of the room. She didn’t even notice his shower had ended.

“I see. Did you want to try it on?”

“Isn’t it bad luck for a groom to see the bride in her wedding dress before the big day?”

“Is it? You tell me.”

“I’m going to say that our luck couldn’t get any worse, so to hell with it.” Delia opens the box lifting the dress from the tissue paper. He stares as she takes it to the bathroom.

“What?”

“It’s all moist and foggy in there, you’ll ruin the dress.”

“It’s not like I can change here—you’ll make a fuss.”

“I won’t—I’ll turn away.” He does it immediately, using his hand to shield his eyes. She steps into the eggshell garment, pulling it up to her chest. She goes to zipper it up, but can’t reach all the way.

“Hey, I need your help.” Delia expects a no. Instead, she sees his shoulders tense up. Delia notices that he’s wearing a black tee with beige cargo shorts, which was unusually casual for him. Why was she so focused on his clothes? She needs help with her dress.

“Yeah, sure.” He inches his head around, keeping his eyes to the ground as he offers his assistance. Delia feels the sudden tightness around her chest—it fits, but she’s paranoid that she’ll spill out of her top with any rash movement. 

Her appearance doesn’t go unnoticed by Theo. “It didn’t really set in until now,” Theo says, fixing a crinkle near the hemline. “You make a good-looking bride.”

She flushes. It wasn’t that fancy. The relatively simple dress she chose looked elegant, despite its strapless design. The dress barely made its way past her knees, the lace sequins flaring out the skirt quite elegantly. A necklace could dress up her outfit quite well, but, there wasn’t any need for that. He reaches for her hand, pulling her attention towards him.

“I can’t stand the thought of those bastards leering at us—waiting to get their grubby hands on the island deed.”

“I know. Tomorrow was supposed to be the best day of my life—but it’s just a reminder of the fate we suffer.”

“Fuck them,” Theo growls.

“It’s nice that I don’t have to suffer alone.” Shit—Delia feels tears stinging her eyes again. She doesn’t want to cry in Theo’s presence again.

“I made you a promise. They won’t hurt you again.” He says as he takes the initiative to wipe her tears. His hand lingers on her face. She makes a gasp as he pulls her close, cupping one cheek with his palm. He breathlessly takes her lips, a soaring heat envelops Delia's body as she melts into his caress, tasting the minty flavour of his breath. She follows his lead, feeling his fingertips fumble with the zipper he had helped her with moments earlier.

He breaks away suddenly, the disappointment sinks into her being. He turns away, her lips pulsing, aching for him to return. She was sitting on a man who could kiss her like _that?_

“Apologies. I…don't mean to overstep.”

“You didn’t.” Delia smiles shyly. “I liked it.”

He blinks, somehow surprised by that notion. “It’s that bloody dress—makes you irresistible.”

“You’ll be seeing it again tomorrow.” Her cheeks tickle with flattery. 

“Mm…” Theo says, looking at her. “Best to put it away so it doesn’t crease. I…need to talk to Grandfather—lock the door behind me.” Delia understands that it’s for her own safety. By tomorrow, she’ll no longer be trapped in this room.

She’ll be a free woman.


	6. Chapter 6

The lot had been decorated with white lilies, scattered across the foyer of the manor by the request of her grandmother. To liven it up, Milo also took liberties to sprinkle the bouquet with purple orchids. Since the wedding was to take place in the manor, it was a bit cramped, but enough to impress a small audience. She wasn’t sure if it was her Grandmother or Milo, but they had hired some musician named Mikii, who touted the violin. Delia didn’t know much about music, but she’s heard the name circulate in the media. Hiring a professional violinist is one thing, but for a wedding?! They were promised that this wouldn’t be a full-blown affair!

Delia was in one of the guestrooms, preparing herself for the big moment. It was something both her and Theo had to agree to, as it would have been unusual to outright refuse. They couldn’t tell the family about their captors—and why it would be problematic for the two to be split apart. But, their exclusivity was easy enough to excuse; Delia was pissed at her family. Even if the outburst was meant to be a diversion, it turned out that her feelings were very, _very_ real. She had harboured, unknowingly, a deep grudge towards her family, especially Delius. She didn’t rat out his secret rendezvous with Oli to anyone, not even she was that cruel. Delia hears a knock on the door; she expects it to be her grandmother—but her large, curly-haired brother enters the room. He gawks at his sister, his brown eyes sparkling with awe.

“Dee, you’re stunning!” He says with glee, rushing to scoop her into a hug. “I’m glad I’m going to be at your wedding! I didn’t like that I wasn’t invited, especially since I taste tested all your sandwiches before they went to market.”

“Thorne, let go—you’re going to crease my dress!” Delia grunts.

“Oh, sorry! You know, I kinda always imagined you wearing an egg-shaped dress for your wedding day, but that would be a bit over the top—” He quickly changes his words after Delia’s accusatory stare, “Anyways you look real pretty!” 

A gentle smile touched Thorne’s lips. He genuinely cared about her happiness. Thorne had never been a bother to Delia in the past—his naiveté made him the most tolerable to be around. There was never a need for a battle of wits when Thorne was around. Delia only realizes now how much she appreciates that.

“Thank you.” She says, her voice soft from appreciation. “I hope your stay here hasn’t been too boring.”

“Oh no no no, I loved it! Although between you and me I think Thea is ready for me to go home.”

“Why do you say that?” Delia feigns ignorance.

“Because she kept telling me to go home.”

“Well—I think she might not be used to seeing you so much. You have to give her space, you know?”

“Hmm.” Thorne contorts his face as if the thought pained him. “You and Theo spent so much time alone that I didn’t know what else to do. The courtyard’s nice, but the bodyguards here are really scary—they looked at me all threatening-like.”

Delia gulps, “Yeah, they’re pretty intense…don’t do anything to make them mad, alright?”

“Roger.” Thorne sticks his hands in his pockets. “Oreo and Pesto are gonna miss you.”

Delia shudders—she didn’t need any reminders of Thorne’s tarantulas. They gave her the shivers when she imagined their furry, spindly legs. “I think they're going to be just fine without me—they have you as their doting father.”

“May I cut in?” Cordelia hears her grandmother’s voice. she's slightly agitated at the interruption, Thorne is the only genuine person that carried the Firthe name; she wasn’t ready for him to leave just yet.

“Sure, ‘ma, I’ll get out of your hair. Bye Dee!” Thorne makes himself scarce quite quickly.

“You…look magnificent,” Cordelia says, holding her hand to her lips. “A stunning bride.”

“Easy for you to say—you’re not the one getting married.” Shit, she was supposed to feign love! Guess the cat was out of the bag now. It registers on her face, but she says nothing. It’s better that she didn’t press, for the safety of her family, and, the Avangards. This situation couldn’t be more messed up.

“Did I ever tell you how your Grandfather and I got married?”

“He did when we were kids.” She omits the part where she hung onto every word, hoping to find someone who loved her as much as her grandfather Radjerd loved Cordelia. What a shabby dream that turned out to be.

“I doubt that he mentioned that our wedding was fake.” Her grandmother smiles sheepishly.

That’s—that’s not what she was expecting to hear. “…He didn’t.”

“I met him in a…compromising situation, but he was daring enough to make a deal with me. He would marry me for riches, and I would have my freedom. I told my parents I was in love with Radjerd, and I would marry him instead. Along the way, we found love—real love. It was the best decision I ever made.” Cordelia looks off to the side. “I know Theodore wasn’t your intended choice, but maybe, you could allow him to be. I know that he’ll care for you deeply if you’ll let him.”

Except she didn’t choose Theo. Her grandmother did. There was no _choice._ The story makes Delia angry. 

“Is the money enough to save our family?” She attempts to bury her irritation.

“Yes.” Cordelia rests a hand on her granddaughter’s bare shoulder. “Delius said he’d give you space, but he wished for me to tell you good luck.” Delia doesn’t answer. “Don’t be mad at him—I’m the one to blame for his shortcomings.” Delia frowns deeply. “I’m sorry…for putting Delius first. He was so troubled after your mother left, and I tried my best to fill that role for him. . You were always stronger than your brother; I never had to worry about you.”

“Yeah.” Is all Delia can say, her throat constricts with the urge to scream. She’s never felt so betrayed. 

Cordelia lowers her head in shame, “I hope you can forgive me one day.”

Delia remains quiet, turning away from Cordelia as assurance; she didn’t want to cry in front of the woman. Cordelia’s steel-blue eyes narrow with confliction, but she sighs in resignation. “Alright. I will leave you be.”

Delia lets the tears fall as she hears her grandmother’s footsteps in the hall. She clutches her chest, gritting her teeth as she sobs silently, feeling her warm teardrops splash onto the roof of her foot. Great—in five minutes she’s supposed to feign a plastic smile in front of a bunch of strangers. It’s humiliating. But, it was her fault for agreeing to it. She has no choice but to get through with the wedding and get that deed. Maybe she could convince Theo to leave this city and go somewhere remote—the money would still be hers, and she could open her eatery out in the countryside. She hears a knock from one of the attendants; She was expected in five minutes. She lets out a weary sigh and fixes her makeup. Thank god no one was walking her down the aisle.

Delia leaves the guest room; her heels create a soft clicking sound on the tile. She keeps her back straight taking deep breaths as she walks. She passes the large spanning foyer, proceeding to the hall of the ballroom. On cue, she heard the violin started playing, soft tones filled her ears. She appreciates that the music is low and causal. That was for her own nerves, more than it was for anyone else. She prays that she’s not making the biggest mistake of her life.

Delia takes a deep breath, hearing the music deck the halls in all its splendour, her dress swishing across her knees as she takes gentle steps. Delia hears the guests chattering away below as she approaches the stairs. With her hand, she takes to the stairwell; all eyes upon her. The room grows silent, as the violin plays a soft melody—she walks down the stairs in careful consideration—she refuses to trip. Theo waits at the bottom step. His black suit flatters him well, slimming him in all the right areas. His tie matches the colour of her dress—a pale, eggshell white. He looks at her in dazzling awe as she takes his arm. He’s never smiled at her this sweetly.

Slow gasps and hushed whispers indicate that the guests think positively about her dress. Instinctively, she clings onto him. His arm gave her comfort; she was able to calm down. Taking another deep breath, she moves forward. The minister Milo has chosen wears a sparkly pink sequined gown—standing out from the audience. 

The music stops.

The room falls silent.

The minister speaks her practiced lines. Delia does her best to stay focused. Despite the lighting being minimal, she feels as if a spotlight has been dropped onto them. The minister turns to the couple, waiting to begin. Theo says nothing. Fear flashes in his eyes as he looks at the guests before him; he’s got stage fright. He stutters, unable to keep three words together. Delia calmly brushes his hand, attempting to comfort him. She vastly underestimated his confidence. The minister begins the vows; Delia’s heart hammers against her chest. She feels constricted in her dress; perspiration lines her brow. When it's her turn to speak, she almost squeaks. All eyes were on her. Letting out a soft sigh, she turns to Theo.

“I, Cordelia Merise Calista Firthe…” She begins her on the spot vows. She didn’t need to write them, sharing that in the short time they got to know each other, she discovered Theo to be a suitable choice. She didn’t love him, but, If she were to marry anyone at this moment, it’d be Theo. Her nerves calm down when she finishes, his eyes never leave hers. Did he register what she was saying? It was clear he didn’t because a long pause enters between them before he speaks.

“I think you’re pretty.” Theo’s horrified eyes indicate that isn’t what he meant to say, but his tone is so sweet, so endearing, that she can hear soft audible _aww’s_ from the crowd. Did he realize what he was saying? A stark blush crosses his cheeks—her heart beats nervously.

The minister while confused, hands them their rings, as the two follow her directions. Delia’s is a brilliant gold etched band, with purple and yellow stones laced all around the edge. Theo’s matches hers by design. She hadn’t seen the rings before now—they must have cost the Avangards a fortune—which wasn’t necessarily a shocker. Theo’s hands are shaking—which makes it hard to put his ring on securely. 

Delia’s eyes widen when the minister announces the two as husband and wife. He stares at her in confusion. Cordelia leans in, whispering to Theo that they were officially married. He clues in scooping her up into a staged kiss—it’s anything but forced. She feels weightless in his arms as he holds her close—the guests applauding in approval. She was officially Cordelia Merise Calista…Avangard. Well, not until she signed the papers, but that part was coming soon.

Too soon for her to stomach.

The papers were signed swiftly, the violinist started her piece; it’s sombre for a wedding, but she captured how Delia felt. The greatest thing about this ordeal was that the kidnappers would finally leave her and Theo alone.

“You two should dance,” Milo nudges Theo towards Delia. “No woman likes a man with two left feet.”

“Lay off,” Theo grumbles, but he takes Delia’s hand—leading her into a slow methodical dance. Delis leans on his chest, hearing his heartbeat pulse through her ear. It’s methodical, soothing.

“Sorry if I step on your toes.”

“It’s fine.” She closes her eyes to prevent any tears from escaping. What was supposed to be the happiest day of her life…made her feel empty. After three minutes of endless pacing, Theo taps her shoulder.

“Hey, _hey.”_ Theo nudges, “We can leave if you need some air.”

“They’re all watching us.” Delia sniffs.

“When the song ends, we can escape.”

There he was, comforting her. He was locked in the same deal she was, and he was taking it gracefully. Meanwhile, she was acting like a baby. She should be thrilled—she’s a free woman now—but all she can think about is her stupid family, selling her off to the Avangards. She doesn’t care how her grandmother addressed it. Whatever, she’s not a Firthe anymore.

Good fucking riddance.

The rooftop balcony was beautiful. The early fall sun displayed beautiful colours, only rivalled by a painting. No—no form of art could capture the brilliance of the twilight sky. “If anyone bothers us, I’ll make them regret it—damn sick of being poked and prodded by people who can’t mind their own business.”

“Thanks.” Delia offers a weak smile.

“My grandfather gave me the worst pep-talk ever. I assume your grandmother did the same.”

“It wasn’t a pep talk, just more excuses why—never mind. Like it matters now.” Delia dismisses the subject. “What did Milo say?”

“He told me it’s my job to make you happy.” 

“It’s not your job. You can’t force another person to feel a certain way.”

“Yup,” Theo leans on the ivory wall. “If you’re still miserable, we can file for a divorce. Granted we’ll have to wait a few years, but you can keep the money…and I’ll stay on as a shareholder.”

“I wasn’t saying that I was miserable with _you,_ but…if you want to divorce…who am I to stop you?” An odd pang hits Delia’s stomach. She surprises herself when she realizes she wants anything but to divorce Theo. 

“It makes no difference to me if I’m married or not.” He shrugs, putting his hands in his pockets. “But as I said before, it’s better that you’re pretty—and motivated. I’ve got a reasonably good business sense if you want help with your eatery.”

“You’d do that?”

“I’d be a pretty shitty husband if I didn’t attempt to help. You want to make a name for yourself, yeah? I can help you do that as an influencer.” This…is the happiest that Delia had been in days. She turns to him, giving him a genuine hug. She doesn’t know what to say, silently squeezing him instead.

Theo’s cheeks redden at the contact, but he smiles, “I’m not done. I suggest that we add pepper to the menu.” Delia eases off the hug, tilting her chin up to glare at him. “What? I guarantee that it’ll boost sales if you give it a chance.”

“Pepper…” Delia says coolly.

“Yes, that’s what I said.”

“ _Pepper…_ ” It’s as the word has her properly ensnared.

“We’ve established that is exactly what I had said…pepper.”

“You’ll willingly sell pepper in my shop but scoff at the idea of children.” Oh god, Delia did _not_ mean to say that.

“I don’t like babies all that much.” Theo shrugs. “You said you won’t have kids unless you’re in love with the father—I remember that much. A wise decision. Grandfather wants us to have kids—but that’s hardly a good reason to.” Theo ponders briefly. “It’d be nice if we could find something to like about each other, don’t you think?”

“What makes you ask that?”

“It’s not that surprising of a question. It’d make things a lot easier if we were amorous instead of spiteful, you know?” She wasn’t expecting Theo to say such things so easily. A telltale blush showed that those thoughts weren’t at the cost of his dignity. “I think it’s best if I stop talking.”

“No—I like it.” She offers a small smile. “It’s nice knowing that you think about our future.”

“Even if it means that you have to deal with pepper?”

She briefly shudders, but nods. “As for the deed—I’m sure we’ll have one of those kidnappers approaching us soon about it now that we are married. I’ve appreciated that they kept their distance—although that makes me more suspicious.” She’d rather them just disappear but she knows that’s not possible.

“I don’t care if they’re tapping us, as long as they stay out of our lives physically.” His hand squeezes hers. “But, if we don’t go down, I’m afraid that Grandfather’s going to think that we ran away. You don’t want to be on the receiving end of his nagging.”

“Maybe we should get two islands then.” Delia chuckles, feeling much better.

“You want to live on an island with me?” He looks amused.

“It’s better than having your grandfather breathing down our backs.” She says without malice. “But you’re right. Let’s head back before we stir any further suspicion.” In truth, she’d prefer to stay on the balcony with him—or share a kiss—but it’d be out of place. It doesn’t stop Delia from wanting to, but she withholds her urges. She’s not sure how much she can take of this emotional roller coaster.

She can’t stop staring.

Delia steals glances when Theo turns his back; he’s whittling at his desk. The reception had ended, and both were tired of talking to strangers. Delia had taken off her dress and hung it on the door—thankful to be out of such a restrictive outfit. Her bedclothes were a relief from the constricting fabric. Theo hasn’t said anything to her since the reception ended, but it's not a surprise. A jarring thought hits her mind. Should she…make a move? Delia wants to. She wants to kiss him again. And if he's so good at that—what _else_ was he capable of making her feel?

But she couldn’t tell him that—it’s too daring.

“Theo?” He doesn’t say anything, the whittling sound fills the silence of the room. “Hey!”

“What?”

“I was thinking we could talk.”

“About?”

“I don’t know—the type of island we want? Milo asked me but you left by then.”

“Doesn’t matter to me—it’s not like we’re going to live there.” This was true, but he could at least pretend to care. “Next time tell him to choose—he’s surprisingly talented at finding good properties.”

This wasn’t the type of conversation Delia was aiming for, but it got him talking—even if it was only for a minute. She lies on the bed, her hands spread out. 

“Can you come here?” She asks.

“No, busy.”

Delia rolls her eyes. “With?”

“Carving.”

Delis lets out a frustrated sigh. She’s got to take matters into her own hands—even if it means hopping out of bed and doing just that. She takes a few deep breaths before she rests her hands on his shoulders.

“What are you doing?” He asks but doesn’t move.

“I was thinking…we could, maybe, get better acquainted?” Delia smiles. “Since we are… _married._ ” Theo irks in place, the knife making quicker scraping noises against the wood. Oh, so he was going to ignore her, was he? She backs off, placing a finger on her lip as she looks for his dresser. If her memory served her correctly, he couldn’t resist her in his turtleneck sweater. She slips off her bedclothes, pulling the sweater over her. It barely covers her butt, but that was the idea. She walks over to him, her grin wide as he tilts his head; his amber eyes quickly look her up and down before he squeezes them shut. His fiery cheeks indicate how he really feels.

“The hell are you doing?!”

“Humph, you liked it last time.”

“Get out of my sweater, _now.”_ He stands up, narrowing his eyes at her.

“Why? It’s more comfortable than what I was wearing. ” She's never seen a man so conflicted in her life, as he grabs the neck of the sweater to pull her closer.

“What kind of a game are you playing.” Delia begins to fluster. She’s never played the part of a seductress. “The hell’s gotten into you?”

“You said it yourself, it’s better for us to be amorous.” Her face burns alongside her boldness. God, what _was_ she doing? 

Theo’s tone lowers, “I wasn’t tryna get a free lay…” She doesn’t see his gaze linger on her.

This was backfiring terribly. “You know—you’re right. I should change.”

The fire in his golden eyes is reignited, his hand wanders along the curve of her hipbone. “Maybe I was being hasty,” his grumble is more of a purr. “You look pretty damn good in it.”

Delia sucks in her breath, her lips are inches away from his. Was she ready to concede? Theo leans Delia against his desk, brushing his current projects aside. She follows his lead, her eyes locked with his. Delia feels his warm hand glide along her thigh, running up the edge of the sweater, her mind buzzing with anticipation as he lifts the fabric over her stomach. His mouth moves to hers as he lightly nibbles her lip with his teeth. She lets out a gasp; her hands comb his thick yet silky hair. His fingers looped around her beige undergarment, sliding it down to her knees, A coy smile reaches his lips—he knows what he's doing. He says nothing as he lowers his head to her stomach, inching downward. _He better not talk, or she’ll kill him…_

A loud clatter brings them both to attention, whipping their heads to the window. Delia screams, almost kicking Theo over as he stands defensively in front of her. Those bastards couldn’t give her a damn break! Delia grabs the ends of the turtleneck back down to her waist as she kicks her panties under the desk—she must save her dignity. 

“Oh god—sorry—listen!” The smooth male voice speaks. “You know I can’t come through the door—”

Wait a minute… _Oli?_ Delia confirms that’s who she’s heard as she watches Theo grabs the man’s collar.

“Your fucking coworkers are tormenting us, and I wanna know why.” He demands, readying himself for a sock in the face. 

“Bro—bro, calm down…chill out, let me talk.” Theo grunts before throwing his hands down, letting Oli walk free. He’s still wearing the same crab shirt from yesterday—he must have been camping outside the manor. “I had no idea that you were involved with them—I was only hanging around because Deel’s here—but I had to sneak in when I overheard what was going on. You know Gramps would have my ass if I came through the front door.”  
  
“I know—so out with it—what does your gang want with us?” Theo’s tense—he’s angry. Delia can relate—this was just as much Delius’s fault as it was Oli’s. His golden eyes burned with intensity. “Tell your gang to back off.”

“You know I can’t—I’m not a part of that world anymore. I went straight—in a matter of speaking.” Oli coughs. “But I wouldn’t have interrupted this,” his hand gestures to Delia—her face scorches with humiliation, “if it wasn’t important. They’re not gonna let you go, even when you give them the deed.”

“Fucking figures…” Theo growls. Delia’s stomach drops as she looks to the ground. Her head feels woozy.

“They want to extort Delia for money—in exchange for keeping the Firthe scandal under wraps.”

“But why? We were already at the brink of ruin.” It’s why she got married in the first place, although she doesn’t need to say that part. “We already had a scandal.”

“No, this is much worse than tampered customer information.” Oli looks pained. “They know who sold the credit card information.”

"Who?" Delia asks weakly. Who was the person who tore their business—no—their family apart. Who was the individual who put her in this compromising arrangement?! 

“I…promised not to tell anyone when I found out—I tried to get rid of the evidence, but it wasn’t enough.”

Theo’s impatience takes over. “Stop meandering and out with it already!”

Oli says carefully, “It’s either Delia hands over her shares, or, they reveal that it was Delius who sold the data.”


	7. Chapter 7

Delia’s stomach drops as if an earthquake scourged through the room. Her selfish, conniving brother was the sole reason for her family’s financial destruction; the sole reason for her captivity. She seethes, resentment tearing through her as her realization settles in.

There’s no way that her grandmother doesn’t know about this. Her guilt before the wedding had shown Delia some redemption, but to hide something such as this from the family—and to make Delia pay for it? She’s beyond words. She’s beyond competent thought. Delia throws the chair to the side, storming towards the door of Theo’s bedroom—she’s going to demand an audience with Delius and make him pay for his crimes. That is until Theo grabs her wrist.

“The hell do you think you’re going this late?”

“I’m not sitting idly by just to see my brother get off scot-free. I won’t bail him out—I don’t care what the damage will do to our family name!”

“I won’t allow you to cause a fuss. My grandfather can’t know Oli is here—and if you create a ruckus this late, he’ll find out why. I’m not risking that.”

“I don’t care—Delius needs to pay for this!”

Theo strongarms Delia into place; she’s furious that biology fails her. If she could escape his grip—

“I care. Your brother, he will get what’s coming, but you can’t act so rash. You want those bodyguards out there to get all trigger happy because they think you’ll escape?”

“They won’t kill me if they wish to extort my funds.”

“I’m not letting them put their hands on you, _ever again,”_ Theo growls, struggling to keep Delia’s flailing arms at bay.

“Er—sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything about Deel. But I needed you guys to know, and I didn’t know what else to do. Deel wouldn’t have said anything, but I know he feels real bad about it.” Oli’s meek voice fills the room.

Theo replies, “Does he know about what happened to us?”

“No, I came to you first because you can keep the deed until they agree to better terms.”

Delia doesn’t want a reasonable conversation. She wants vengeance. “He’s going to be dead when I’m through with him.” Her voice drips with malice, it even causes Theo to shudder.

“Deel doesn’t deserve that—he was just caught between a rock and a hard place. It was just a last resort bailout—or that’s what he said to me.”

“A bailout for what?”

Oli looks downcast, “He never told me. But you shudda saw the regret on his face, he really didn’t mean to cause trouble.”

“What he did was illegal—if anyone caught wind, he’d go to prison for many years—and rightfully so,” Theo concludes.

Delia doesn’t miss the fear that crosses across Oli’s face. “We can’t let this get out.”

“I won’t pay.” Delia snaps, still barricaded by Theo’s strength. “He’s not getting off scot-free; not at the cost of my freedom. He’s already done enough.”

“Look, just talk to him when you’ve calmed down alright? I’m sure you can work this all out; there’s no need for anyone to go to jail.” Oli raises his hands calmly, “And bro, you should let go of your lady.”

“I don’t trust her to stay put.”

Delia groans, but he’s not wrong. Her anger hasn’t subsided—if she let go of her now, Delius wouldn’t have been the only one on the receiving end of her wrath. Oli walks up to her, Delia realizing that the Avangard brother was shorter than Theo, but, still heads above her. She notices the faint scar on his cheek—as if a blade had sliced his skin during a skirmish. His soft crimson eyes plead at her; ugh, she knows what’s coming.

“Please don’t sell Deel out. He means so much to me—I couldn’t bear it if he disappeared for good.”

“I get that this isn’t your fault, but I’m sick of paying for my brother’s mistakes. I don’t deserve it.” Delia lowers her voice. “I’ll give him the chance to come clean himself—or—whatever will free me from the hands of these kidnappers. Don’t think that I’ll go easy on him just because you asked me to.”

“But you’re my sister now—doesn’t that count for a family favour?”

“Don’t ask for favours you don't deserve.” Theo orders, letting go of the grip around Delia. Delia’s cheeks burn from the realization that he’s right; Oli was her brother in law. She is married to Theo now—no—she’s got to keep focused! “But Oli’s right. There’s no sense of letting Delius rot in prison for years if we can avoid it.”

“You just said Deliusshould get a just punishment.” Delia stares at him with irritable confusion.

“I did, but I realized that would sully the Avangard name if Delius were to end up in the slammer. I don’t care so much about our reputation for myself, but I don’t want this scandal to affect Thea’s good name.”

“You want Delius to stay out of prison to keep your sister’s purity?”

“No—” He stares at her blankly, “she was publicly engaged to the man, and it could make her look like she was involved in the crime if this were to go public. I disregarded that possibility until now.”

“For god’s sake,” Delia rolls her eyes—and hard. “Don’t expect me to hand out my shares because you don’t want your baby sister to be sullied.”

“I won’t allow Thea to be involved in this—end of story. There needs to be another way.”

“If it helps, I think you should talk to Grandpa about it,” Oli says, his courage depleting with every word. “He might know how to stop them.”

“The whole reason I kept quiet was to protect you, dumbass. You know how he’d respond—he’d blame you for the entire thing.”

“If it’s for Deel, I don’t care what he’ll say about me.” Oli brushes his hand through the air, “Whatever. The old man needs someone to point fingers at, and the ritzy life wasn’t for me anyway.” He flashes a coy smile, but Delia sees the hurt beneath it.

“You’d be chased out.”

“I said I don’t care. Talk to Grandpa—get some help. It’s not worth staying in debt to protect me.”

This makes Delia angrier. Now Oli was paying for Delius’s selfish treachery.

“You’re both out of your minds.” Delia tenses up—she looks at Theo. “Don’t bother restraining me, I don’t plan to escape, but the two of you are pussyfooting around the issue. Oli, you don’t have to take the fall for Delius, he doesn’t deserve it. And Theo, I met your sister—do you think Thea gives five flying fucks about her reputation? Have you _met_ your sister? Frankly, I think she’s happy as long as she’s around her raccoons, and away from Thorne.”

Theo narrows his brows at her; It’s obvious that Delia hit a sore spot. She expects him to get cross, but he keeps quiet.

“I won’t sit by and do nothing—I came to warn you guys about your safety, so you owe me the favour that you won’t turn Deel in.” She doesn’t know how one was possible without the other—unless Milo did have a way to protect them. But then she was risking Oli’s safety to do it. Delia would just have to convince Milo to listen to reason.

“Fine. We’ll talk to Milo. This doesn’t mean that I will forgive Delius—I don’t think I can ever do that—but I’ll try.” Delia crosses her arms, looking off to the side. She misses Oli’s appreciative expression. And Theo's disapproving one. 

He changes the subject, “Do you plan to crawl through the window again or do you want a spot on the bed?”

Oli notes Delia’s shocked demeanour. “Nah bro, it’s fine. Even I’m not gonna stop you two from having a good night together,” He winks.

“No worries—I’m long past that.” Delia edges in before Theo gets a chance to embarrass her.   
  
“It’s cool, if you don’t mind me stepping on the end table I can just hop right out,” Oli says gesturing to the furniture near the window. Delia watches as he effortlessly balances himself and dives through the opening, somersaulting on the grass before standing to take a bow. She couldn’t believe how quick—and graceful—that performance was. She wouldn’t be able to pull that off in a thousand years.

Delia expects Theo to be grouchy and scold her, however, he’s anything but. “Thanks for staying calm.”

“Yeah,” She says weakly. Delia didn’t expect gentle arms to pull her into a gentle embrace; the action sending her tear ducts into overdrive. She collapses into his arms—letting her emotions pour out of her.

She's too far gone to feel ashamed. 

_“The Odious Oranges?!”_ Milo grabs his pipe as an attempt to calm himself down. “And you’re saying the bodyguards are in cahoots with them?!”

Theo had woken Delia from her slumber, encouraging her to prepare herself for the upcoming discussion. They had to sacrifice cleanliness for timeliness—she hadn't realized that she fell asleep in Theo's sweater, lacking undergarments. She cared until he brought her two boiled eggs in a bowl. Delia hadn’t expected such chivalry—especially from Theo. It was an attempt to cheer her up before the inevitable. She devoured them quickly, before getting dressed into something casual—a plain yellow sleeveless dress that didn’t match her complexion at all. Theo didn’t care, barely dragging Delia out the door as she threw her hair into a messy bun. He had lead her to Milo's study—and managed to interrupt the older man's teatime. Fast-forward, here they are.

“Yes.” Theo stiffens his shoulders, his posture stills. Telling Milo was a risk not just for Oli’s safety, but for the entire families involved. Delia hopes they’ve made the right move. “One of them attacked Delia in the hall days ago.”

“My word…” His silver brows crinkle. “I never thought these bandits would slither into my own home. This is what I get for having a traitor within the family.”

“With all due respect, this has nothing to do with Oli. He’s the one who suggested that we come to you, knowing full well what the ramifications would be. This has nothing to do with him.”

“It absolutely does, my dear. If it weren’t for Olivin’s treachery in the first place, that gang would have no ties with us.”

“How is that relevant to what’s happening now? Oli would never put a hit on us, and yet we’re in the grasp of these men. Who knows how long it will take before they want even more than what I can offer them?”

“We came to get help, not to talk about my brother,” Theo adds curtly.

“Yes, yes. I suppose it’d be a bit much over the boy’s head to organize such a thing. Right—the kidnappers—it’d make sense why you two were so insistent upon obtaining such land. Will this place be their hideout?”

“Assuming so—what else would they need an island for?”

“Illegal forages, smuggling substances, uninterrupted meetings—I could write a whole book before the day is done. There’s a lot of appeal in a remote space.” Milo taps on his desk. “But we’re not here to discuss such trivialities. Your lives are at stake, and we cannot have that.”

“We need to do this covertly, and you’re not good at doing things low-key.” Theo lowers his voice. “If you mess up, we’re torched or dead.”

“Ye who lacks faith always ends up dead,” Milo says calmly while taking a smoke from his pipe. “Now, what made Olivin display his concerns in the first place?” Why did Delia hesitate to speak? This was her moment to out Delius—brand him as a traitor. The sliver of love she had left in her heart prevented her from tattling.

“He wanted to warn us about the kidnappers’ plans.” Theo edges in, filling the silence in the room. 

“Your brother was never the heroic type. There had to be something else, or he wouldn’t be lingering on the property.” Wait—does Milo not know about Oli’s relationship with Delius? Or, was he playing coy?

“Oli was following the kidnappers’ trail and managed to sneak in last night to warn us of their plans. He knows he can’t come through the front door or you’d have him in chains.” There’s a slight bitterness in Theo’s voice as he continues, “Listening was never your forte.”

“We’ll save the mudslinging for later, eh boy?” Milo gives Theo a wink before focusing on Delia. “I’m truly sorry you have to see the ugly side of our family so soon after joining it.” 

“No worries,” Delia can’t mask her unease, bringing her arms to her chest for comfort. A creeping suspicion lingers through her as he listens to Milo and Theo converse. Despite their differences in personality, it was like staring at the same man—in past, and future. She doesn’t focus on that for long, as she’s pulled back into the conversation.

“Can you describe the man who jumped you?”

“Big, taller than Theo, brown hair, gruff-looking.”

“They’re all working for the same boss. We need to get rid of all of them.”

There's a gleam of intrigue in Milo's amber eyes. “Is Olivin still on the property? Because that boy will be a wonderful decoy.”

“I’m not putting him in harm’s way.”

“It's the life he chose, Theodore. If he wants to be of any use to his family as he is, he will serve without question. No harm will come to him.”

Delia sees Theo wince with anger; he quells it quickly. “What is your plan?”

“I know a man…he's well-versed in secret criminal organizations.”

Theo shoots a speculative look at his grandfather, “It’s not that author friend of yours, is it?”

“Oh, no no no—not him. His brother, Anys. He’s a master at keeping in the shadows and will capture those bastards before they have a chance to do any real damage.” They had kidnapped both Delia and Theo against their will—and even drugging him when he didn’t comply—that alone was irreparably traumatizing. Theo glances in Delia’s direction, indicating that his thoughts are similar.

 _“Ah-knees?”_ Theo straightens. “Are you sure that isn’t a code name?”

“It’s an unusual moniker yes, but he may offer us some help. Whether it’s his real name or not is irrelevant. I will make a call. When he gets back to me, summon Olivin to my study and I'll tell him what his duties are.”

“He’s not coming here alone.”

“Surely you don’t think I’d maim my own grandson…even if he deserves a little prodding from the coals.” Milo laughs as if he has told a joke. “If it puts your mind at ease, Theodore, then by all means come sit in.”

“It would put my mind at great ease.” He echoes back to Milo.

“Treat your wife to a nice lunch, and get her out of that room. I’ll have measures in place that give her the freedom to wander around the manor by herself. Especially since the Firthes are due back for tea this afternoon.”

Delia grimaces at her maiden name. She despised the lot of them. To her disappointment, Milo notices. “I understand how frustrating family can be, but please entertain them when they arrive.”

Delia gives a curt nod, her eyes glued to the floor.

“Don’t pressure her.” Theo's tone is a warning. Delia appreciates Theo's back up; he's the only person she can trust. Marriage was built on the foundations of trust and love, and this man has certainly earned her trust.

“I’m suggesting she meet with them, not make amends. What she did for her family is admirable, and it's for the best she maintains a civil relationship. Both of you can’t afford to act suspicious.” He takes his time savouring the taste of his pipe. As much as it annoys her admit, Milo's right. Eyes will be on them now more than ever. Before Theo and Delia take their leave, Milo gives them the instructions that he will get his trusted footman to contact them when a plan was in formation.

Just as Delia's about to speak, Theo takes the lead. “I'm hungry—let's go to the kitchen.” Theo leads Delia by the arm to the room mentioned. It's not too far, only takes a flight of stairs and fifteen steps to the right. Delia can tell by Theo's strict impression that he wishes to remain off the subject of kidnappers. It's wise, for she wishes not to discuss them either. Upon their arrival, Delia gasps at what she sees—stainless steel appliances with marble granite countertops; this was no traditional kitchen. Her violet eyes sparkle as she lets go of Theo's arm to explore. He takes a seat at the island near the window.

“Care to make me one of those special sandwiches you touted on Insta?”

Delia flushes, “Right now?!”

Theo frowns, “No, tomorrow—of course, I mean now. I just said I was hungry.”

“Don’t need to be so sarcastic,” Delia mutters. Yeah, loving this man would take a long time—if ever—with that attitude of his. She rolls her eyes— _glad to see he’s back to that_. “But because you were _somewhat_ nice to me during my stay, I won’t find a knife to stab you with.”

“You could put arsenic in my sandwich—which is in the pantry should you change your mind.”

“Who keeps arsenic in the pantry?” a long pause before she sees Theo’s blank stare. “Are you seriously going to start teasing me before I make your food?”

He lets out an unexpected laugh. He's amused with her irritation. But, she’s got to show him that her egg sandwiches were to die for. He did promise to help her with the business.

After many an attempt to find the proper utensils, ingredients and plates, she cuts the finished product into triangles. Three types of egg sandwiches—all delicious, and lacking pepper. The only ingredient lacking was salt—but it was on a shelf too high for her to reach, and there’s no way she was asking for Theo's assistance.

She hands him the plate, smiling when she sees his brows lift. He likes the presentation. She eagerly watches as he takes a bite—stuffing the first sandwich in his mouth. He follows suit with the second and third one, his smile reaches not only makes her heart swell but reaches to the depths of her abdomen.

It all falls apart when he says, “Needs pepper.”

“You looked like you died and gone to heaven when you devoured my plate.” She growls.

“And they were very tasty. All I’m saying is that pepper would perfect it.” He smiles again, stirring pangs of unholy attraction. “Can taste the passion and care of this dish.”

Delia stammers, having to glance at the oddly placed orange painting on the wall to distract herself from wanting to kiss him. The way to her heart is through her sandwiches... “Thanks, but I have to ask; why want me to make them now?”

“Figured it’d calm you down before you have tea with your grandmother.”

“Surely that's not—ah—that’s kind. Very kind.” He didn’t have to show such courtesy towards her. There was no one present to witness his actions.

“I’m thankful you didn’t put dish soap in my batch.”

“I considered it.” She laughs wryly, attempting to keep her feelings under wraps. They were interrupted last night—but her heart falls as soon as she's reminded why their liaison had ceased.

Delius's betrayal.

Knowing what had happened, could she be so cordial with her grandmother? It's obvious that she knew, and most likely helped him cover it up.

“You’re tense again.”

There was no sense in hiding why that’s the case. “Thinking about this afternoon.”

“Ah.”

Delia’s thankful that he doesn’t encourage her to feel better. “I don’t know how to address her—she more than likely knows about what Delius did.”

“I don’t mean to play devil’s advocate,” Delia doesn’t like where he’s going with this, “but, what reason would he have to illegally sell private information? What date did your stocks plummet?”

“When the shareholders withdrew their holdings—a month and a half ago. It’s why Delius and Thea were arranged so quickly—” It’s why she’s married to Theo, right now.

“Ah,” He says again. “I should have known that. Delius seems like a smart man—or he would have to be if he’s operating as a CEO—so why would he do something so irreparably foolish?”

What frustrates Delia is that she doesn’t have an answer for him. “Wish I knew. I knew he wasn’t street smart, but to do something like this—” She doesn’t want to make excuses for him, and shamelessly, she doesn’t want to detach from her anger. He deserved every morsel of her wrath. However, she can’t deny that Theo’s raising a good question.

_Why would Delius do something so irreparably foolish?_

Sitting in the Avangards’ Tea Room was much different from her own back at the Firthe Manor. The walls were modern, the framing elegant, but contemporary. Yet, three gaudy paintings hung with pride—one of each of the Avangard siblings holding their favourite fruit. All painted in preteenhood. A small Thea juggling mangoes, a lanky toothy Oli beaming as he holds his orange above his had with pride (how fitting, considering he'd end up with a gang with the orange moniker later in life), and Theo—looking slightly younger than the other two—displaying a ripe pumpkin bigger than his head. She might be biased, but he looks the cutest.

The paintings provide an excellent distraction; dissolving immediately when she hears her grandmother’s voice.

God, how is she going to sit through this?

“You look surprisingly radiant given our parting.” She appreciates that her grandmother didn’t like to mince words.

Neither did she.

Delia folds her arms crossly, “As you, knowing that you sold your granddaughter for money.”

“Delia, I gave you the choice. You didn’t have to marry Theodore—you chose to.”

“It was a heavily influenced choice.” She pauses as a server dips in to pour their tea—a lemon blend both Delia and her grandmother preferred. Her voice picks up when the server leaves. “A choice Delius should have made.”

“I understand your anger, but we’ve had this conversation.” Her grandmother says firmly, taking the first sip of her tea. “Now, I didn’t come here to bicker, I wanted to have a nice catch-up with my granddaughter about her married life, but I was naive to believe you to be keen.”

“Theo isn’t the problem. It’s Delius.” She braces herself; if she accuses Delius of illegally selling customer information, there would be no coming back from this. Delia’s anger is still young—she doesn’t care for the consequences. “I know he sold private, confidential customer information; illegally.”

Her grandmother doesn’t flinch.

_She knew._

“He didn’t know what he did.” Her grandmother lowers her head in shame. “He was tricked.”

“I don’t care.” The tremor in her voice is strong.

“It’s so easy to be tricked when you don’t know anything about the position. When I inherited the business, my father was still alive to guide me into it. He was a much better teacher than I. It was me that failed him—as a mentor and a grandmother. It was his idea to marry Ilythea, to make up for his mistakes.”

Delia seethes with anger, her being vibrating at the seams. Her teacup shivers in her hand. “Yet, it was so easy for him to slip out of his responsibilities—because you enabled him to. Actually, no, it’s my fault. I was the one who truly enabled him—by agreeing to this stupid plan—to save this family. A family that I note—doesn’t need saving.” She’s tempted to pull the plug, pull her shares from the family business, but she lets them win. “I understand that this is a short visit, but it’s one that I’m through with. I am also through with this family. Good day, Cordelia.”

Delia shoots up from the table, sticking her nose up in the air as she leaves. It’s the only way to keep her tears in check.

She will never forgive Delius or her grandmother for this.

Not ever! 


	8. Chapter 8

A soft knocking sound rouses Theo from his slumber, a droplet of sweat rolls between his brows. For a moment, he’s delirious—clutching the hair on his chest for support. He takes a strong, deep breath. _He’s not in that chamber anymore._ Nightmares had swirled through him, leaving him tense upon sunrise. There was no sense in relaying this to Delia—he has enough sense not to burden her with his concerns.

He turns to Delia; she’s spooned three of the seven pillows dividing their bed. _Their bed_ , Theo shocks himself with the jolt he feels—they’ve shared sleeping accommodations over eight days—but the thought is true nonetheless. They’ve been married for two days; they share more than just a bed—she has his last name as well.

Funny, she didn’t snore at all last night. Theo is used to seeing her slack-jawed and drooling, but she’s curled in a defensive position. Why is his first instinct to scoop her up and leave this madhouse? He didn’t love her as a husband should love a wife, but the desire to protect her was strong. Maybe it was to alleviate his guilt—ugh—this wasn’t the time to reminisce. The second knock is firmer, louder. He gets out of bed, rushing to the door. He doesn’t wish to wake her up.

On the other side is his grandfather’s lanky, ornery valet with slicked black hair. Why the hell was he here? 

“Pardon for the morning alarm, Master Theodore, but Lord Milo wishes for your and Lady Cordelia’s company in the study.”

Theo ponders momentarily—didn’t his grandfather state that his footman—ah, to hell with it. “I’ll go alone, Mr. Ellis. Tell him I’ll be there in fifteen minutes—I’d also like my coffee black.” He gives Theo a curt nod, off to accomplish his task.

Theo closes the door gently behind him. He can relay the plan to Delia later when she’s had some rest—without her present, he could afford to be candid with his grandfather. He throws on a black tee and slips his feet into a pair of grey slippers he tucked away under his bed. Before leaving, he drapes the cover over Delia—she grunts softly in response.

“I did it so you wouldn’t catch a cold. I’m not interested in getting sick because of your negligence.” He mutters his reasoning to her, but it made no sense to. She wasn’t awake—was she? He swore he saw the makings of a grin with her plump, cherry coloured lips—the thought sending a sharp pang in his gut. He feels the heat rise to his cheeks, deciding that _now_ was the perfect time to leave.

Theo knocks on the door to his grandfather’s study, entering when he hears the affirmative.

“Aloha awakea, my boy.” Milo beams, noting the way Theo is rubbing his eyes. He hasn’t realized how much he relied on Delia’s snores for that ambient white noise he was used to.

“I haven’t heard you speak our native tongue in some time.”

“And you haven’t visited me on your own in some time—where is your lovely wife?”

“Asleep,” Theo says, uncomfortable with his grandfather talking so comfortably about Delia. It has brought them nothing but grievances. “If you want me to retrieve her—”

“No, let her sleep. Cordelia hinted that the two quarrelled. I’ve never seen the woman so downcast; she didn’t share details. Do you know what happened?”

Theo isn’t about to divulge personal information. “No, she kept quiet about it. We spent the evening mulling over our future.” That wasn’t completely untrue—little discussions were had, but Delia did ask Theo to accompany her to the outside courtyard—mentioning the appeal of a remote dwelling, far away from her family—before falling into quietness once again. She skipped dinner and was asleep by the time Theo returned to his room. It was a weight off his mind that he no longer had to worry about those roguish brutes—thanks to his surprisingly helpful grandfather. But they won’t be fooled for long—hopefully, this conversation would aspire to free both Delia and himself from their burden.

“Ah,” His grandfather lights his pipe. “Sit. We’ll begin when Olivin arrives.” That wasn’t a name he was expecting from his grandfather’s lips. It stirs Theo’s nerves to have his brother and grandfather in the same room. He hasn’t seen them converse in over a year. Theo finds his hands to be gripping the arms of his chair—maybe he was tenser than he thought. “While we wait, let’s have a chat.” The way he emphasizes the word chat doesn’t bring him joy.

“And what do you wish to discuss?”

“Divulge an old man with the stories of youth.” There’s a twinkle in his amber eyes. “Your marriage for instance—is she manageable?”

“In what way?” He raises a brow.

“She’s not too broody, is she?” Milo hmms.

“No.”

“Good, there’s nothing worse than a partner who isn’t agreeable.” Milo picks up a framed photo on his desk, strolling the oak frame with a finger. “I miss her every day you know.” A soft sadness washes over Theo, he doesn’t remember his grandmother too well, for he was a young child when she passed away. He remembers her long, flowing white hair—perfumed with lavender. It’s why his grandfather bought bottle upon bottles of her perfume—to keep her smell alive. Her crimson eyes were always sparkling and full of love. He hadn’t thought of his grandmother much, but he wonders what kind of conversations they would have now that he was grown. It would be more in-depth than building castles in the sand. “She would have liked Delia—she loved eggs very much.”

“I think liking one’s favourite foods doesn’t correlate to two people getting on.” Theo shakes his head.

“Nothing wrong with making friends over a good meal.” He smiles, “It’s how I met your grandmother.” 

“It’s alright, Delia doesn’t cause me trouble.”

“That’s not very romantic,” The older man sighs but stiffens when his study door opens. His usually good-spirited brother stands still as if he were a deer caught by the headlights of a vehicle.

“Don’t gawk, boy—sit.” His grandfather instructs, his voice taking a dominating role. Oli’s eyes glance for a place to sit, he scuffles to the seat beside Theo. “Close the door before you get comfortable.” Oli hops up, nudges the door shut before he sits back down—his expression looking as if he’s to await a grand punishment. There was no warm greeting due for Oli—although Theo shouldn’t have been surprised. Their grandfather folds his hands as he exhales, acting like he has a grand unfortunate secret to release. “Anys contacted me—he's come up with a plan. And you two are going to execute it perfectly.”

***

“Yeesh, that was a tough one. Thought Gramps was gonna beat me with an inch of his life!” Oli chuckled, the ease in his crimson eyes returning as they duck into one of the elaborate guestrooms, away from lingering ears. “All he wants me to do is pretend I want revenge on the family, and you to stay…what did he say…ignorant?”

“What else was I supposed to do?” Theo questions outwardly—it was pretty obvious that he has to be ignorant of Oli’s apparent _treachery,_ as he was going to give the kidnappers fake intel on the family. Now, how Oli was going to get back into the good graces of his former employers? That, unfortunately, was left up to his brother as his grandfather gave them no direction.

“Who knew Anys was so handy; not only does he have men stalking the premises, but he sold Gramps the deed that you guys needed. It’s perfectly convenient to bring the plot forward.” He turns away from Theo and winks.

Theo ignores his brother’s strange performance. “Better that we have it, in case things turn to shit. Grandfather said that it would be a good place to hide out if things got messy.”

“I wish I could get a private island. Deel hates people and I’m sick of hiding around.” He sulks, crossing his arms. “You’re lucky you get to share a room with Dee.”

Theo bristles at the nickname Oli gives her—correcting him immediately. “Delia. And it’s not luck, we were forced at gunpoint to pretend that we love each other. It’s not real.”

“Looked pretty real when I broke into your room.”

Theo’s face _burns._ “Shut up— _anyways—_ it’s not the same as you and Delius. We were forced to get married.”

“There’s nothing that you like about her?” Oli raises a brow. “I mean she’s not my type, but she’s cute looking—in the cute plump way.”

“She’s not plump.”

“She is where it counts, even I’m not that blind.” He motions his hands in a large half-oval shape. “But again, what do I know. Skinny blonde men are more my type. Your wife’s got nothing on Deel.” He lets out a jovial chuckle.

Theo scans his thoughts, desperate to change the subject. “How did you meet Delius?” Part of him was curious, but it’s more to distract his brother.

“Oh, well, I broke into his office looking for intel on the Firthe Scandal, but then Deel broke in around the same time.”

“He can’t break into an office that was his, Oli.”

“Whatever—anyways—Deel was startled so I had to restrain him before he screamed for help. Wasn’t easy though, he’s got long limbs. But I managed to keep him down for a while, threatening him and the other bad guy stuff you can imagine. And then I kissed him.”

“That fast?” Theo’s mildly impressed. Then again, his brother always got what he wanted—no matter what it cost him. “What did he do?”

“Deel kissed me back.”

“Yeah right.” A sharp sigh of disbelief leaves Theo’s lips.

“He did, and it was incredible. Pissed me off though that he was engaged to Thea.”

“I don’t know, they made a pretty good match.” Theo purposely goads his brother; who knew how amusing it'd be to see Oli’s face drop from glee to misery so quickly.

“If Deel didn’t find me, you wouldn’t be with Dee.”

“It’s Delia—and that would have suited me just fine. As I said before, we're not married because we care about each other.” He says aloud, but a pang in his chest says otherwise. He ignores it. “We were detained and drugged, not to mention threatened throughout the whole ordeal. Delia and I could have done with less of that.”

Oli frowns, “Fair point.”

There’s a question that’s nagging at Theo. “Is that the same night you discovered Delius’s secret?”

Oli nods as he looks out the window. “Yeah. It was a handwritten receipt stapled to a stack of printed credit card information. I forgot to turf the evidence before it fell into the wrong hands.” His shoulders slump. “I didn’t mean to be so careless. If I was…you wouldn’t be stuck.”

“Maybe,” Theo shrugs, “But who would keep the evidence in a drawer that was unlocked?”

“It wasn’t locked, I picked it open. I should have locked it back up so one could have found it.”

“Hey,” Theo puts his hand on Oli’s shoulder. “Doesn’t matter now. I recall you doing much worse when we were kids.”

“I mean, there was that one time Gramps caught me in the pantry with a face full of oranges. I had never run so fast, if it wasn’t you for distracting him, I would have gotten quite the clobbering.”

That wasn’t what Theo meant, but it got Oli smiling. Pangs of nostalgia erupt within Theo as he recalls the memories of his childhood. “You weren’t allowed to go orange picking for weeks.”

“A cruel reality I lived for those seven weeks. How dare I be denied nature's bulbous pleasures…”

Theo lets out a chuckle. “I never understood your orange fetish—pumpkins are much more deserving of the title,”

“Is that humour I sense in your voice? Who are you and what have you done with my brother—” Oli reaches over, attempting to ruffle Theo’s hair, but he dodges out of the way before the leaner man can grab a hold of him. Both stop when they hear a man and a woman shouting through the door.

Theo can't recognize the man's voice but the woman is obvious.

“Deel!” Oli says tensely as he reaches for the handle, flinging the door open before shooting out into the hallway. Theo follows suit.

_She's going to derail the entire plan if she doesn’t shut up!_

A few housemaids linger as a tall, wily well-dressed man and Delia are having a verbal battle. His first instinct is to quell the argument, but Oli is already at the man's side attempting to do just that. Delius denies Oli's comfort, turning straight back to his sister in irritation. If the two didn’t stop arguing they would draw too much attention to themselves. Delia was too agitated to listen to reason, so there was only one cause of gesture left.

“Hey,” He says sternly. “Cut this out.”

“What!” she snaps back, her red cheeks indicating that she didn’t know it was Theo who had called for her attention. “This has nothing to do with you.”

“You see, that’s where this does—” without warning, Theo scoops Delia into his arms, prepared to be reprehended for his actions. He lets out a grunt; she's heavier than she looks.

“Wh-What—” Delia's too flustered to speak. Theo takes her away from the scene, his own being hot with disbelief. Her voice lowers, “Put me down right now.”

“No. I’m not having a shootout because you and your brother are too stupid to keep your mouths shut,” Theo mutters as he approaches his room once again. He jiggles the handle with his foot, allowing him entry to the room without having to struggle with Delia. His arms felt less than eager to let the short woman go, but he’s not going to try his luck. The length of her nails alone could gouge his eyes out in retaliation. 

“What kind of a move was that?” She seethes. “First you leave me by myself, and then I run into my stupid brother who deserves more than a scolding from me, he deserves to pay for what he's done to me!”

“You’re being stupid. If anyone else caught wind of what you were saying, we would have been fucked. Do you want that?”

“I wouldn’t say anything incriminating but that bastard wouldn’t leave me alone!”

“I highly doubt that Delius chased you into an argument.”

“Well, he would have if I didn’t try to deter him!” She breathes heavily, pointing a finger at him. “You had no right to interrupt me!”

Theo grabs her wrist before she pokes him in the chest with her fingernail. “I did what had to be done.”

“By parading your strength around by a barbarian! God knows what he's going to think about you now.”

“I was doing you a favour,” he growls. “Shooting your mouth off would get you killed.”

“So Delius gets to walk away without consequences, it's not fair.”

“God damn it, Delia, when are you gonna stop complaining? Do you think I have it any easier? Just because I don’t shoot my mouth off every five minutes doesn’t mean I don’t have problems of my own.”

A look of grave offence crosses Delia’s face as her posture stiffens. “I never said you didn’t have your own issues, Theo.” The way she says his name is cold. “It’s great that you have a family that hasn’t fucked you over. Good for you. Good for fucking you. What's the worst that you had to deal with, besides marrying me? Well, in hindsight I suppose that's a pretty sucky deal.”

“You don't get to pull this shit,” Theo growls, his temper rising. “I’ve done nothing wrong—in fact, I’ve helped you several times and you’re choosing to ignore it just to make a point. I'm not buying it.”

“Some of us don’t get that chance—because our family has robbed us of what we had.”

“That's terrible, yes, but that doesn’t give you the excuse to shit all over me. Especially when I give a damn about your safety.” That shuts her up. “Don’t be slinging around accusations about my life when you don’t know one damn thing about it.”

Silence fills the space between them, his temper burning. He never pegged Delia to be the bratty type, but given what she was going through—was he too hard on her? He hadn’t meant to be…he was sick of this.

“Sorry,” Delia whispers. It’s heartfelt, not snappy.

“Yeah,” Is All Theo can offer. He’s not good at mincing words. He soon follows with a “but you give me a ton of those issues.” 

After a long pause, Delia responds with a, “Like what? The only problem you have with me is that you can’t keep it down half the time.”

Theo blinks; too shocked to come back with a witty comeback. That was just…vulgar.

“I-I mean you have other problems with me I’m sure but—uh—just forget it. I’m too mad to even think right now.” She crosses her arms, Theo not missing the small motion of her chest against her arms. The low rise cut of her lime coloured dress was doing nothing to quell his interest. Dammit, this was the last time for such thoughts. Yet, his arms ached to hold her again. He decides to replace his yearning with frustration, no, that was unfair to say. Both emotions are coursing through him.

“You’re very lucky that it was me who caught you.” He snaps at her.

“Was I? I’ve never been more embarrassed in all of my life!”

“Don’t tell me that you have your head stuck so far up your ass that you can’t see the danger in front of you!” 

“God, you really don’t let off, do you!”

“If you do anything stupid like this again…” Theo’s voice rumbles beneath his breath, he has no idea what he’s even doing. To hell with manners—he pulls Delia close, his mouth overtaking hers with a hunger that only she could rival. He underestimated how long he’s waited to taste her plump lips, the smell of vanilla wafting through the air as he rakes his fingers through her hair. Her soft curls tickled his cheeks, getting caught on the stubble of his chin, but he doesn’t care.

“You’ll do what,” She asks, her voice breathless as he breaks away from her lips. Her violet eyes are sparkling with the invitation.

He doesn’t give her the gratification of an answer, cupping her half-exposed breast in his hand as she lets out a feral grunt, the sound shooting straight to his groin as it tenses against her thigh. His hand lingers near the buttons to her dress; the beast in him tempted to pop every one of them, exposing the voluptuous curves of his wife. Instead, he takes advantage of his position, dipping that same hand beneath the hem of her dress. She tenses as he leans her against the door, his mouth refusing to break away from hers as his fingers graze her—

“Delia?” The impatient knock breaks Theo’s concentration, his growl proof of his carnal frustration.

“Ignore him,” Delia whispers. He agrees with her, but he has a feeling that Delius won’t let up if they leave him be.

“Sooner we address him, sooner we—”

“Delia!” The knocking persists.

“Shut up a second, hold on!” Delia tenses as she adjusts the neckline of her dress. She whips the door open, her cheeks flushed as if she were running. Hopefully, Delius doesn’t notice. Theo ducks before Delia has the chance to hit him with the door.

“Could we talk?”

“Not interested. I said what I had to say.”

“You didn’t let me explain.”

“I don’t care to hear your explanation. You’re smart enough to know I’m a married woman—now run along.”

“Is Theo in there—” Delia whaps his nose before he ducks his head in to peek in the room.

“Of course he is—and you interrupted us, now fuck off—” Delia slams the door in Delius’s face, Theo blinking in response. She was so forward with him. Delia lowers her eyes; Theo’s breath quickens when her fingers curl over his waistband

“Now, _where were we?”_

Delia bites her bottom lip, lowering herself on her knees as he jolts in place. His mind blanks as he feels the fabric of his pants slide down his legs, her soft hands reaching for his boxer-briefs. Her expression sours. “Who wears underwear to bed?”

The question implies that she doesn’t wear any; the thought stiffens him more. He lets out a gasp when she grips the elastic with her teeth, teasing his abdomen with her hot breaths. The thrill intensifies when he feels a telltale draft; noting Delia’s eyes sparkling in delight as she marvels at him. He glances back up, the feeling of embarrassment and arousal swirling into an unfamiliar emotion. Ecstasy takes over as her mouth overtakes him—he stutters as he attempts to hold himself up. The slickness of her mouth, the softness of her cheeks as she tugs on him; it’s overwhelming. His hand grabs the back of her head, influencing the speed of her thrusts. His toes curl as he slams his back against the door, hissing as he throws his head back; Delia welcoming his release as he lets out a helpless moan. Sweat drips from his face, gliding down his neck as his eyes sparkle in satisfaction. It takes all the strength he can muster to keep standing.

Flushed, Theo looks into the sparkling eyes of his wife. He can’t speak, but Delia manages a grin.

“I vastly underestimated you,” She says, sliding his underwear above his hips. 

“Hmm?” His hum is gravelly, his brain still hazy. He attempts not to sound so breathy.

“For such a large man, I was worried you took the hit in other areas—ah, forget all that. It’s not appropriate to say.” She lets out a tired laugh as she eases off her knees.

“I think we’re far past formalities.” He says dryly, regaining his sense of personality.

A bubbly laugh escapes her, but she says nothing more as she swaggers towards his bed. “Now it’s your turn.” 

The yearning in her voice doesn’t leave much to the imagination. Theo’s heart jumps to his chest, his legs moving fast to keep up with Delia’s request as he scoops her into a feverish kiss, growling as he tops her. Her skin tickles against his fingers—his mood soaring as all distractions melt away. He pops the buttons to her dress, the garment sliding off her body quite nicely. Her lacy garments indicate that she’s high bred—but that didn’t matter to him. What did, however, is that she would be rid of them soon—by his hands. 

The hinges of the door burst open, the wind being knocked from Theo’s lungs as he’s forced onto his back—Delia’s screams reach his ears; a sudden pain surges from his neck as her screeches echo through the room—and then the hall. Theo deliriously stumbles around, knocking over his shelf as he falls backward; no, he refuses to pass out this time. Those bastards won’t get away with it this time.

His willpower proceeding him, Theo follows the mix of screams, yells, demands—the sounds mix throughout as he approaches the main hall. A taller blond man keeps his back to the wall, his brother acting as a shield to three men in black—the glint of hand pistols catches Theo’s dazed vision. Distorted screams fill the air as he feels his body become lifeless; his form smashing to the ground.

Then, darkness.


	9. Chapter 9

Panic surges through Delia as she’s exposed in front of what feels like thousands of eyes—her back against her brother's as three—or four pistols are pointed at them. She was ripped from his grasp and dragged into the foyer; no amount of kicking or screaming sufficed. She glances around at the horrified faces of Milo, Oli and the rest of the servers in the Avangard employ. Many individuals in black suits surrounded them. Theo was out for the count, his body collapsed before her. Even with his blunt temper or his gruff nature, he cared for her. She can’t imagine a world without him, not after everything they’ve been through.

“You can have the money, I don’t care if I have to pay you for the rest of my life—just let us go.” Courage bubbles inside Delia as she struggles to stand. She puts the embarrassment of her current attire at the back of her mind. 

“I’m sorry, but it’s too late for that.” An earnest voice appears from the crowd, a voice that Delia recognized as Two's. In a strange way, it was comforting to hear him again. “This is what happens when you spill the beans, Cordelia. I didn’t want this to end in bloodshed, but it seems we have no choice.” His head ducks to the side, lowering his eyes before the first gunshot is fired. Delia screeches, clasping to her brother—his arms also tight around her. She opens her eyes to see Oli's hand around the gun that was pointed at them.

That shot was meant to kill—if Oli hadn’t stepped in, Delius, or her, would be dead. _What happened to sparing their lives?_

“Get away from him!” Delius's voice breaks from fear as they surround Oli.

“You were always a dumbass—but you were loyal at least. Seems like you defaulted,” One of the men dressed in black grabs him by the collar, tightening his grip by the second. “Now, I always liked your scrappy attitude and will forgive you if you help us persuade the heir. If not, you'll die.”

“You can shove your guns up your asses.” A dark expression clouds Oli's face.

“Very well—”

Delia screams as the man points the gun to Oli's forehead; by a miracle, Delius knocks the man off his feet, another gunshot fires at the ceiling hitting the chandelier above them. Delia shields her eyes as she feels shards of glass sting her arms. She opens her eyes to see Delius's body limp over Oli's.

_No!_

Louder gunshots whiz through the air, coming from the stairwell of the foyer—aiming for the black cladded kidnappers. She shouts, goading them towards her. The voice stops, as her ears pick up on a presence whooshing past her. A glimpse of a thin woman with dark hair passes her vision.

_Thea?!_

She whips around Delia. “You know how to shoot?”

Delia wanted to know how Thea was trained for this, but now wasn’t the time for such questions. “No—”

“Fuck,” She hands Delia a gun. “Point and use the trigger thingy okay? And smack, kick, or punch Theo If you have to. We need him awake, we’re already down men as Oli had to play the stupid martyr—anyways these asshats are gonna pay so just be useful and wake him up alright?”

Delia nods, her resolution resolved thanks to Thea’s quick thinking. She rushes to Theo’s side, gently wiping the glass shards off of him. She smacked him last time, but that didn’t work. She shakes him awake, but to no avail.

Fuck, _fuck!_

She keeps the gun to her chest, shaking, knowing that she’s easy pickings if anyone noticed her through the scuffles. Men in black suits were fighting against another force, wearing slightly bluish uniforms but they weren’t cops. Were these the reinforcements that Milo had mentioned his friend got? Theo didn’t have the chance to talk about it with her. One man sees her—the brute who previously captured her in the hall—she shakes in place as he comes running for her. She lifts her gun and winces, pulling the trigger—nicking his arm as he howls in pain. She shoots two more bullets, the man falling to the ground. Is he dead? Did she kill a man? _She killed a man._ A rush of adrenaline races through her. Her freedom is worth the rebellion. It's in the name of self-defence.

Another man comes into the fray, rushing towards Delia. A delirious Theo begins to awaken, telltale grunts revealing the man's coming to. She braces one hand against him, preparing herself for the worst. She won't let anyone hurt them. Upon closer arrival, she notes his unfamiliar silver hair and young face. It had to be dyed. His suit was matching those of the navy-blue garbs of the individuals who had protected them. He takes one look at her, taking off his jacket and draping it around her shoulders. “My name is Anys. Come with me; we'll get you to a safe place.”

“I’m not leaving Theo.”

“I made a promise to Milo that you two would be safe. The others will be okay as well, but if we don’t escape now it'll be impossible to leave.” Anys says with a hurried cadence.

“No!” She protests, but it's for naught. Theo turns in place, groaning as he looks up at Delia in confusion. She blinks back tears when she sees the man beneath her stirring once again.

“Egg lady?” His tone sounds drunk but she doesn’t care.

“We have to leave,” Delia says calmly, gently stroking Theo's cheek. “Can you move?”

Theo grunts, not giving her a response.

“We need to go with Anys.”

“But he's a writer,” Theo mumbles in confusion but gets up with the help of both Delia and Anys. It doesn’t help that there’s a blush across the man's cheeks. What the hell did they inject him with? “And you're the pretty egg lady from Instagram; why are you in your underwear?”

At any other moment, Delia would flush, but her mind is occupied with their safety.

“We need to get you and Theo to the plane undetected; we’re going to fly you both to the island until all of this is resolved.”

“We can’t go there!” Wait, he couldn’t mean the one with the deed? Wouldn’t that be the perfect target for the kidnappers to find them again? 

“Then where do you suggest we go—especially with you dressed like that? You’re lucky none of those guys had any other ideas.” Anys’s cool eyes scan Delia’s face.

“That’s super inappropriate!” Delia growls, her fists tensing. “I didn’t choose to get abducted wearing this, I was dragged out by my hair—ah!” A bullet whizzes by them.

“They spotted us—shit. Grab Theo’s hand.”

Delia clasps the taller man’s hand; he’s delirious but at least he can stand. If he could run, it’d be a bloody miracle. Anys leads Delia and Theo away from the manor and into the words. Theo hasn’t fallen over—yet. She prays that he’ll stay on his feet. 

They come to a sudden halt; before them is a lithe man standing an inch over six feet, his panicked violet eyes locking with Delia’s. Her heart hammers violently against her chest.

_Delius._

How did he make it out undetected? Where was Oli?

“I can’t let you go.” Trepidation fills his tone.

“Deel, this isn’t the time. We’re going!” 

“If you leave, you’ll be killed. They’re going to shoot down your plane.” Is that how Anys meant to escape with them? No, the details aren’t important.

“Get Oli and you can come with us. Before they notice we’re leaving!” 

There’s conflict in her brother’s eyes.

“They’re safe with me, young man, and you can be too if you come with us. If not, then kindly step aside.”

“Let us pass, _now.”_ Delia holds a gun to her brother. The betrayal flashes in his eyes before he grits his teeth.

“I won’t let you ruin our family name.” Delius pulls out his own hand pistol—she knows he didn’t have one before this moment. Was he given one by Thea as well? God, now wasn’t the time for such rationalities. “If you leave, they’ll destroy us, Delia. Grandmother won’t survive the slander.”

“No, _you_ won’t survive. Grandmother has protected you long enough.”

Sweat beads down Delius’s forehead. “Don’t make me choose.”

“I am—and it’s not your betrayal.” Delia keeps the gun pointed at him. “You let us go, and you’ll never hear from me again.”

“That’s not what I want! You’re my sister—I don’t want you to be bound to this man over my wrongdoings.”

“It’s a little too late for that.” Delia hisses. “Theo has sacrificed more for me than any of you have.”

“Family isn’t about sacrifices, it’s about longevity.” 

“You should have thought of that before backing out of the engagement,” Delia clenches her teeth as she throws down her gun. “I can’t hurt you, no matter how much you deserve it. But know this, Deel, we’re finished.” 

Hurt flashes across the blonde man’s face as his arms tremble. “You don’t mean that, Dee.”

Her eyes fill with moisture at the nickname. “I do.” 

“If that’s how you feel—”

“Deel, stop!” Oli pushes past the fray, a bloody pool seeps from the corner of his neck. He flings his arms around Delius, forcing him to drop his gun. “He doesn’t mean it—don’t listen to him. The guilt’s been weighing on his shoulders, this isn’t his fault!”

“Oli, I want you to make sure you and my sister leave safely,” Delius says in a calm tone. “I…have to do something.”

“No— _No._ You aren’t forcing me to leave, Deel. What did I tell you—I’d never leave your side!”

He looks at Oli, “Please, do this for me.”

“No. If you stay, so do I.” Oli grabs Delius’s hand. “Thea and Gramps are here, and I refuse to leave them.”

Delius gives a curt nod. “I’m sorry, Dee. I’ll make this up to you.” He gestures to the wooded path, giving Anys the clear that he won’t stop them.

Anys escorts both Theo and Delia through the brush. Tears sting her eyes as they’re rushed through the woods; she can’t bear to think about Delius. What would happen to him? What would happen to Oli, a man she hadn’t known long, but harboured such a deep love for her brother. An all too familiar scream echoes through the air, scaring some crows from their nest as their caws tear through the skies above.

***

Theo wakes, his head pounding. The last thing he recalls is Delia’s screams before he passed onto the cold marble tile. Now he’s surrounded by empty seats—and a window. He blinks, seeing nothing but clouds through a windowpane. Was he on an aircraft?

Theo rubs his neck before standing, taking liberties to walk around. He catches his dishevelled appearance as he walks by the mirror, his hair sticking up in places. He sees Delia by the window, her eyes red and puffy. A pang in his gut suggests for him to approach her, but his logic fights against it. When he sees that Delia’s body is covered by a navy patterned coat, it hits him. A flood of memories plagues his brain.

Delia looks at him. “You’re awake.”

“Yeah. Sorry, it took so long.”

“It’s not your fault. It never was your fault.” Delia hangs her head low, gripping her fingers together in a tight fist. “I’m sick of crying over my circumstances. I was going to shoot Delius—my own brother. What have I become?”

“Someone who’s tired of bending to the will of others. I think that’s why Oli left the family.”

“What happened to Oli?” It’s obvious that Delia wants to change the subject. He indulges her.

“Grandfather has a way of expecting the best from you—believing that if your best isn’t up to his standard, then it wasn’t your best. What he expected of me was easy—follow the rules and become the heir he dreamed me to be. For Oli, things weren’t as simple.” He came into the world desperate to live by his way and no one else’s. Theo envied that mentality—wishing that he could embody the same philosophy. But he was a stickler for tradition—for structure—forever bound by his fate to obey. He hadn’t realized how strong that desire was until now. He stretches out a hand to Delia. “I understand why he stayed behind.”

“He could be dead.”

“Oli? Nah, not his style."

Delia leans her head on Theo’s shoulder. “Delius and I did everything together—none of us could make friends so we stuck by each other’s side. Being twins it was easy—we were put in the same class of every private school we attended, but no one approached us because of how _strange_ we were. Our mother left the family after Thorne was born, unable to handle the stress of a third child—leaving our father and us behind. Father took Thorne and was raised a continent away from us for years, visiting every summer until he graduated. So, it’s been the two of us with my Grandmother all this time, and me being the older twin, I became fiercely protective of him. I don’t know when that fierce protection turned into hatred. I…don’t want to hate Delius. I love him.”

“Oli’s gonna protect him.” Theo rubs Delia’s back as she sobs into her sleeve. He sees the pang of betrayal in her face—that should have been her. He understands; he could have done more for Oli as well.

“Thanks,” Delia sniffs. “I don’t know what’s going to happen now, but I’m glad you’re here with me. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Didn’t do anything.”

“You certainly have!” Delia narrows her brows. “Marrying you might have been the thing that saved me.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is.” She says, her voice lowering. “When I first met you, I thought you would be a horrible husband, you were so gruff with pushing me away—especially at dinner—but I know now that you’re not a mean person. You were dealt a shitty hand too, and I’m sorry I didn’t see that sooner.” Her lips part into a smile as she cups his hand with both of hers. “I think…I love you.”

Theo blinks, his mouth parting into a low oval shape as his heart jumps into his throat.

“You don’t have to tell me that you love me back. I just wanted to let you know.” A nervous laugh escapes her lips. “I know it’s absurd to tell someone you love them after a week, but our circumstance is unique.”

“Having a near-death experience will do that kinda thing.” He doesn’t blame her—he shared similar affections towards her. But love? “I’m not very good with these kinds of words. Just telling you—I’m still not a romantic and never will be.” Theo’s amber eyes dart to the ground, but Delia wraps her arms around him.

“Your actions speak louder than your words do.” She snuggles into him, her hair brushing against his stubbled chin. “I’m looking forward to learning more about you.”

“You sure about that?”

“Why?”

“Because I love cats. I want a house full of them.”

“Cats don’t bother me.” She shrugs. “Delius is obsessed with them.”

“But he’s got one white Persian,”

“And he’s obsessed with Deely—the Persian that is. Don’t ask why he named her Deely.”

“I won’t.”

“Besides, if you love cats so much, why don’t you have any?”

“Grandfather’s allergic.”

“Then why do you still live with them? Surely you can afford moving out.”

“Grandfather would have a fit. He likes keeping the family together. It’s why he wanted us to live at the manor—or what’s left of it.”

Delia frowns at the comment. “That explains why he wanted us to stay at the manor—or until we had kids.” 

“No kids,” Theo says firmly.

“Then no cats.” He expects Delia to shoot up and cross her arms in protest, but she just laughs.

“How about one cat and one kid—that is, when we get a place of our own. Does that sound manageable?”

“Three cats.” Theo says bluntly, but his edge softens as he continues, “And maybe one kid—but not anytime soon.”

“That’s fine. Persian cat? That’s the only Instagram picture I saw of you where you were smiling.”

“Hey, I’ve smiled in tons of pictures—just not the ones where Grandfather hasn’t forced me to.”

 _“Sorry to interrupt, but we’re about to land shortly. Please return to your seats_.” They hear a voice through the intercom, which Theo struggles to recognize. But he doesn’t question it as he settles in his seat.

Delia’s eyes brighten a bit as she asks, “Do you mind if I hold your hand? I never liked the landings.”

Theo nods and allows her soft fingers to intertwine with his.

_This feels right._

Theo eyes the mahogany painted building; the entryway’s grand pillars showcase its three-floored structure. The shrubs line elegantly against the large windows, giving a glimpse of the modern furniture inside. The way they reflected the sunset was beautiful. Theo watches as Anys unlocks the door. Who knew such an impressive house could be hidden on a remote island in the middle of nowhere?

He can’t believe the magnitude of this place. Theo steps upon the white oak floors of the open concept living room. To his right was a grand staircase that leads to the second floor. The kitchen laid ahead, which was easily the centrepiece of this house.

“This place is amazing. You can see the ocean right from the big kitchen window.” He hears Delia’s voice echo.

Theo walks up the stairwell, going to the two-door room at the end of the hallway.

He couldn’t believe his eyes.

A king-sized canopy bed with dress pillows propped against the ornate headboard, silk sheets line the furniture beautifully. The windows to his left faced the oceanfront; a balcony was attached to the main wall. What kind of an island property was this?

“It should be safe here for now,” Anys says, nodding. “I know this isn’t where either of you want to be, but I promised Milo to keep the two of you safe. Cordelia also asked for this.”

“I understand.” Theo watches as Delia’s head lowers, but she nods gently. 

“We’re not going to be on house arrest, will we?”

“No, you two are free to walk around the island. It’s one of my private estates, so make yourselves at home.”

“For how long?”

“As long as it takes for the Odious Oranges and their associates to be wiped out.” Anys laughs, “Just think of this extended trip as your honeymoon spot. On paper, this island is technically yours.”

“But we get no internet or phone usage.” Theo crosses his arms. He’s going to lose all his followers now.

“We’ll set something up and use a location that lures any stragglers onto another island we can trap them on.” Just how many islands did this man own? Wasn’t he supposed to be an author? They couldn’t be that rich…no wait, the author was Anys’s brother. 

“Please let us know how our families are doing,” Delia says meekly.

“They’re all under my protection. It’ll be okay.”

“I want to hear it from your mouth,” Delia instructs.

Anys nods. “You will. Now, I need to board this plane before it lingers here any longer. Supplies will be delivered weekly, everything will be alright.”

***

“It’s beautiful,” Delia says to herself, resting her hands on the railing. The sun’s setting rays glimmered over the soft waves. When the tide went out, she’d go for a stroll, leaving Theo to fill the house with classical jazz. She wasn’t interested in that kind of music, but if it made him happy then who was she to judge?

She hadn’t had to wait too long to hear that Delius and Oli were safe—the Odious Oranges had been cleared from the Avangard Estate. It wasn’t safe to come back, said Anys, as he delivered the first round of food and clothes to their door. Truthfully, Delia didn’t mind the solitude—and she needed some time to sort her thoughts.

Truth be told, she didn’t mind being alone with Theo. In fact, she enjoyed it. But did he? Theo had been distant towards her since they arrived. Was it because she confessed? Or, maybe he’s worried about his family. That made the most sense—it wasn’t the Firthe Manor that had been gunned down after all. She must respect his space.

Delia jumps as she feels his strong arms wrap around her waist. “Relaxing, isn’t it?”

“Jeez, Theo! You scared the life out of me! I thought you were in the kitchen?”

“Got bored.”

“You only seek me out when you’re bored? Lovely.” Delis rolls her eyes.

He turns her around. Her breathing shortens as she meets his eyes, his amber stare lingers on her lips, “So what if I do?”

His intent rolls off his tongue. What on earth has gotten into him? His eyes scan hers for permission; her gut lit with anticipation. She gives him a slight nod, holding a devious smirk.

Theo scoops her up as he pulls herself feverishly towards his mouth. He swiftly guides her to the bed. She groans as she lets his tongue in, her frame pulses against his touch. Her eyes sparkle when they set on his finely sculpted figure. Her body’s lit aflame as his chiselled frame tops her, his hands wander to her waistband. She allows him to glide her beige tights to her feet as she kicks them off, allowing only her underwear to remain. His long, lean finger slips past the fabric, making its way to her sweet spot; she tenses in approval. Her smile grows wide as her brows relax. Waves of satisfaction fill her being as he plays with her, as another stray finger gently slips inside her. She reels as his fingers work their magic.

Soft breaths escape her lips as she closes her eyes. Suddenly, he stops, as he examines her dark lace underwear. His amber eyes tell her that he wants them gone. She nods, giving her blessing. The silk fabric glides down her smooth leg as Theo takes it upon himself to fling them to the ground. She pants, forcing his hand back in between her legs.

A deep laugh rolls from his throat as he complies with her order. His fingers glide upwards as Delia hitches. _It's. So. Hot._ Her eyes are closed; she doesn’t see the gratification on his face. How does he know to stroke her there? Her breaths quicken as the tremors grow stronger. Delia’s back arches. She doesn’t finish before the room echoes with the sound of her satisfaction.

Delia’s eyes glaze in gratification as she breathes sweet relief. Her mouth is captured by the man with the long, wondrous fingers.

“You told me I didn’t look like a man who knew what I was doing.” He whispers on her lips. He strokes her leg before he says, “Do you still think that?” She shakes her head, albeit breathless from their previous encounter. She shakes her head, unable to answer him.

Excitement fills her as he pulls her legs forward. She hears his pants unzip. A pleasing sensation makes it up her legs as he readies himself for her. Logic be damned, she loves this man. Delia’s hips raise as her legs rest against him. With one stroke of his hips, he settles himself into her.

A moan surfaces as he arches his head up; his jawline in plain sight. He struggles to keep himself composed; a pleasing switch to witness. She’d tease him, but his rhythmic thrusts keep her from interfering. His hands cling to her waist as he bites his lip. Her thoughts break, her core sensitive from her previous release. His arousal knows where to glide, hitch, stop. She clasps his sheets as he bends down to explore her mouth. He clutches her with both hands as their lips devour each other. His long tongue savours her own. She feels herself moisten against his skin as she clings to him. His movements become quick and sudden as he tenses; she takes in his warm release. Sweat drips from his face, gliding down his neck as his eyes sparkle in satisfaction.

He’s unable to speak. To be fair, neither can she. The pair hold each other to savour the experience.

She’s never had a partner this good.

“What?” Theo says in defence; all signs of the sensual lover she had made love to melting away. He’s back to his old stoic self—except, she sees a ghost of a smile on his lips.

“You scared me, Theo. You didn’t wake up, I thought you were shot. You weren’t moving and I got terrified and there wasn’t anything I could do!”

“I woke up eventually.” Theo scoffs, rolling his eyes, turning on his side. “Now I’m tired. Go to sleep.”

“Dammit Theo, I was terrified!”

“I would have been fine, there’s no need to be so dramatic.” He turns back towards her.

“You moron! I love you—” Delia’s lips purse. “I mean, I love…how safe I feel with you.”

Theo smiles, shuffling closer to wrap an arm around Delia before kissing her forehead. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

Delia flushes as he speaks, his words soothing her nervous heart. She hadn’t realized how quickly she had fallen for the man but her grandmother in a weird way was right. “You’re only saying that because you slept with me.”

“Could say the same for you. You’re unusually affectionate.”

They’ve reached a stalemate.

“Fine. I’ll go to sleep.” She says with a smile; Theo returning it before he closes his eyes.

Delia’s thoughts jump to her family. Maybe she would forgive Delius and her family one day, but she knew this.

She was happy to be an Avangard.


	10. Chapter 10

_Four months later…_

“To the right a bit!” Delia waves her hand, two guys adjusting the pastel pink sign over the rustic French-built venue. Eggcellent Eats flashed brighter than she could imagine—her dream coming true with each breath. Next week she would hire her employees properly, but in the meantime, this satisfied her. She could start making her beloved sandwiches soon, and her husband’s influencers would dine here—she could be self sufficient without the use of her family’s money. Donning her signature polka-dot apron, (it fit despite being a snugger fit than she was used to) and matching do-rag, she set to work.

A pair of arms startle her, but she’s soon calm when a whiff of sandalwood wafts through the air.

“God, don’t scare me like that!” Delia play slaps his arm, resulting in a tight smile from her husband.

“You spook too easily.”

“Can you blame me for all the hell we went through?”

“I told you that you’d never have to worry about the Oranges again.”

“Do you have to say that name to me?” Delia huffs; leave it to the Odious Oranges to leave a bad taste in her mouth. She can’t serve orange juice in this establishment—not that she’d want to. “Thanks to them I don’t think I can ever look at an orange again.”

“I told Oli we’d sell orange juice.”

“No.”

“But he wants orange juice.” Theo crosses his arms, his amber eyes hardening. “I’ll sleep downstairs if you don’t add it to the menu.”

“You’re awful!” Delia whines as she grips her pen. “You know I don’t like sleeping without you.”

“You’ll make do,” Theo’s grin is small, but assured.

“…Fine. But it’s not on the menu—it’s only for Oli.”

“He’ll be pleased.” Theo’s grin is soft as he pulls out his sleek black smartphone. Presumably, he’s texting his brother to tell him the good news. His expression hardens when he slips his phone back into his pocket. “Speaking of oranges, they’ve been locked up for months. They won’t be bothering our family anymore.”

“We lived on that island for what, a full month before we were allowed back home? God, I can’t even believe it’s been so long.” She adds, “I’m glad that our new home is secluded and far away from society.”

“My followers believed the Honeymoon picture we took—although what would one do on such a long honeymoon?”

“I could think of a few ideas…” Delia smiles as she hops on her tippy-toes to give her husband a kiss.

“Why wait?” he whispers, easing her on the counter. “This apron is the hottest outfit you own.”

“Hold on!” She giggles when the stubble of his chin brushes against her neck. “Do you realize how large the windows are in this place?”

“I do.” He says less enthusiastically as he backs off. “You could make me one of your signature sandwiches to make up for it. I wouldn’t mind seeing you work for the husband you claim to love so much.”

Delia’s cheeks burn at the insinuation; she frowns heavily. “I’m not so sure if I do anymore.”

“You do.” Theo crosses his arms smugly, nodding his head. “I can recall you saying it last night when I—”

“Shut up! Alright, I’ll make you the damn sandwich.”

“With pepper, loads of pepper.”

“Yes, I’ll add your satan sprinkles,” Delia mutters as she rummages through her new kitchen. She can’t believe her first sandwich was going to be for this oaf of a man. But, oh, didn’t her heart get so full when she watched him eat her food. He wasn’t an expressive man by any means, but watching his mouth curve ever so slightly as he took small bites just made her world. Delia prepares her finished piece, handing it to him as Theo’s phone beeps.

“Oh, Oli says he’s stopping by.”

“Tell him no, we’re not ready.”

“Too late, said he could come.”

“Bastard,” Delia mutters. But her words are halted when she sees the telltale signs of delight on the man’s face.

Theo says nothing as he consumes the sandwich, wiping the corners of his mouth with his hand. “I’d marry you for these alone.”

“Mhmm,” Theo said that every time she coated his food with pepper. A smile graces her lips. It’s nice that he enjoyed her creations so much.

Theo pauses after he takes the final bite. “That apron looks a bit tight on you—you’re eating too many sandwiches again.”

“What do you mean again? You know how much I love eggs.”

“It’s not healthy to eat so much.”

“I could be pregnant, you know.” Delia scoffs, folding her arms.

The corner of Theo’s mouth hitches. “You’re not, are you?”

“No. But what if I was—you’d have just made fun of your pregnant wife for gaining weight—which I don’t even want to get into how offensive that is.”

“If that were the case you know I wouldn’t. And god, don’t scare me like that. We agreed to wait at least a year before children came into the picture.” Theo wipes his forehead. “With you and Grandfather breathing down my neck about it, I’m not sure if I’m gonna be set up or—”

“Ew, no! I wouldn’t do that! I want kids but not that badly.” Delia scolds him. “Regardless, I’m enjoying the quiet time we have together.” Although seeing how Theo got spooked so easily, she knew how to get him back for all his teasing.

Theo changes the subject. “You got to off the eggs, it’s not good for your cholesterol.”

“And neither is too much pepper.”

“Pepper lowers blood pressure.”

“Then you run your own pepper store, I’m sure your fans will clamour to try your pepper shakes, and pepper sprinkled soups.”

Theo pulls a face, “Only you would come up with such a foul menu.”

“Excuse you!” A grin flashes across Theo’s face. He says nothing, letting Delia fill in the blanks about his true intentions. Was it even worth considering—this man loved teasing her. It’s her damn reactions, isn’t it? “Now that you’re finished lunch, you can help me move some boxes.”

***

Sporting a simple sleeveless indigo coloured dress with lace trailing the hem, Delia makes her way downstairs to the sitting room of her beachfront home. She’s tempted to turn around when she notices her brother but mentally stops herself from doing it. Theo had told her that Oli wanted to visit their secluded home, _with Delius._ Delia didn’t wish to deny her husband’s chance to reconnect with his estranged brother, but she wasn’t ready to do the same. Delius had hurt her, all to save his own hide. How was she supposed to forgive him for being so selfish? She had been relieved that he survived the skirmish, but that didn’t mean that she was ready to bury the hatchet. She can hear Theo’s voice mixing with Oli’s—the two carrying on as if they were the best of friends. A lonely pang hits her gut—that used to be her and Delius. Why had fate been so cruel to them? 

After a deep breath, Delia enters the room. Her violet eyes lock onto Delius, his frame lither than she remembers. The bags under his eyes were present, despite Oli’s hand being on his thigh. The sparkle in her brother’s eyes has diminished. He doesn’t say much when she takes her place beside Theo.

“Delia, how’ve you been?”

“You saw her two days ago,” Theo grumbles.

“Yeah, and I’m allowed to ask her how she’s been. She’s my sister now.” He beams like a little kid. Delia can’t help but smile back, it’s infectious.

“I’ve been fine.”

“Still thinking about how good the OJ was—you gotta tell me who supplied it.” Oli takes a long pause. “Bro, I suddenly have the desire to play darts—show me where your game room is.”

Delia tenses—knowing full well what Oli’s doing. Theo nods, patting Delia’s hand before he leaves the room with Oli.

Not even the birds outside could be heard by Delia, the heartbeat in her ears drowning out every other sound.

“We hadn’t had the chance to talk, although I understand why that would be intentional.” Delius begins, his fingers tightly locked together. “I hadn’t been so kind the last time.”

Delia crosses her arms. “I can’t say that you have, although there’s no sense drudging up the past. It’s not going to fix anything.”

“I know I messed up, truly, but I ask you to forgive me.”

“Spare me the plea.” That came out ruder than intended, but Delia doesn’t excuse herself.

Delia shakes his head. “I understand if you’re not ready to talk yet, but Oli wants Theo back in his life. It’s going to be awkward if he isn’t allowed to bring me over.”

“I never said you weren’t allowed here.” Delia gives him a deadpan stare. “You wouldn’t be sitting in front of me if you weren’t.”

“I want things to be good between the two of us again.” Delius’s voice breaks.

“I don’t know if it can be,” Delia says flatly—again—not her intention.

“Look. I know how I treated you, and when I lashed out that day—even then—I deeply regretted it. I assure you, Delia, that will never happen again.” She notes Delius’s lips harden to a frown. “Like it or not, you and I are siblings—and—I want to make this work. Even if it takes years for you to forgive me.”

“It wasn’t just you.” Delia finally concedes. “Grandmother perpetuated most of this. The only one who doesn’t deserve any flack is Thorne.”

“Grandmother’s deeply sorry. She longs to see you again.”

“I don’t want to.” It hurt her to say it; she used to love her grandmother so much. Hell, that’s why she agreed to marry Theo. Because she loved this family. “Please don’t make me feel guilty about my decision.”

Delius nods as he lowers his head. “The thought of you hating me is suffocating.”

Delia knows that her brother isn’t the type to express venerable emotions. He’s sincere in his apology. “I don’t hate you. I could never.” Delia finds the words leaving her mouth so fast that she can barely catch them. “I’m just not ready to let go yet.”

“I…understand.” Her brother shrinks in his seat. “I wanted to let you know that I stepped down as CEO—it was my fault that our business went under. As a shareholder…I can humbly survive. It might do me well to take a break from work. Oli wants to move to the beach with him, thinks a tan would look good on me.” He laughs weakly.

“Sounds like him,” Delia says, despite it feeling false. She didn’t know Oli well enough to say things like that. “Living near the ocean is calming. Soothes the spirit.”

Delius offers a meek smile. “I bet. After the skirmish, I could deal with some quiet.”

“What happened?” She’s pulled in two different directions—both wanting to know and not know of the events that day.

“Oli and I were able to back them into a corner, but not without the help of Thea. She’s a whirlwind that one—if I did lean _that_ way, she’d have made a superb wife.” He clears his throat uncomfortably, “Anys’s troops managed to corner them, and they were arrested without recourse. We wanted to make sure that all traces of them were gone before you and Theo were allowed back. I’m glad that the two of you found this place. It seems very you.”

Delia nods, not able to look Delius in the eye anymore. Yet, relief fills her chest. Emotions are so damn confusing.

***

“I’m glad he’s gone,” Theo says after seeing his brother out. “He talks because he likes the sound of his own voice.”

“That’s terrible!” Delia slaps Theo’s shoulder. “Oli’s a sweetheart.”

“Should have married him instead if you wanted a ‘sweetheart’.” Theo looks mildly offended.

“I don’t think I’d have stood a chance against Delius.” Delia raises a brow as she rests her hands on her hips. Her expression softens, “But I think you’re more my type—dark and mysterious.” 

“Thanks.” Theo looks unimpressed for a second before his eyebrows raise. “Oli did mention that he knows someone who wants to rehome a calico. I want to pick her up tomorrow.”

A cat? So soon? Delia blinks but manages to calm herself down. “Sure, but we need supplies for it.”

“Supplies for _her._ ” Theo corrects her. “But we can call ahead and I’m sure a store can collect the items for us.”

“Sure…what would you even name a cat?”

“Coco.”

She scans his face. He's not kidding. “You want to name a calico…Coco…?”

“You agreed to cats—three cats to be precise—so no takebacks.” 

Right; Coco it was then… Delia can’t help but laugh at his serious expression. “I wasn’t going to. Honestly, it’d be nice to have a cat to take my mind off of things when I’m not at the café.”

There’s a softness on Theo’s face that she can’t explain. Did owning a cat mean that much to him? He never looked at her with such adoration. He surprises her when he grabs her hand, his attention solely on her. His expression doesn’t change.

“Yes?”

He says nothing, pulling her into a strong, warm hug. Delia’s chest overflows with adoration.

“You did well today.”

“I think I did too.” Her eyes moisten with appreciation. If it wasn’t for her grandmother’s wish to bring the family back from financial ruin, she would have never married Theo—and that would have been a shame. 

Because it was the best decision she had ever made.


End file.
